


See Me Through

by aslightstep



Category: Avengers Academy (Video Game), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: EMH - Freeform, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Time Fog shenanigans, marvel 1872 - Freeform, mcu - Freeform, multiple steves and tonys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2018-11-20 01:32:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11325882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aslightstep/pseuds/aslightstep
Summary: To say that Steve and Tony have trouble communicating would be an understatement. But on the edges of the Time Fog, they may find some solutions to their problems.Solutions that wear familiar faces...





	1. "I'm taking a half-day."

**Author's Note:**

> for @ishipallthings over on tumblr for my Drabblethon 600. 
> 
> If you don't know much about AvAc, here's the skinny: the Avengers are college-aged and go to a school for superheroes. For the first couple of months the game was out, Steve and Tony were basically huge assholes to each other before it evened out. Avengers Academy sits on the edge of the Time Fog, a weird time-space vortex that occasionally spits out things from other dimensions. Annnnnd go!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title quote is an Iron Man stock phrase from the game.

The table was study in avoidance: Natasha, ignoring the side-eye Jan periodically threw her way as she carefully divested her sandwich of its crust, Sam ignoring the buzzing of Jan’s phone even as the vibrations caused it to inch ever closer to his elbow, Jan ignoring the pointed looks both frequently sent her way, and all three ignoring the distant yelling from the other side of the quad.

It had been three weeks since Steve Rogers’ arrival at Avengers Academy. Three weeks since he and Tony Stark had first met. Three weeks of _hell_.

Sam broke first. “Maybe we should-“

“Nope,” Jan said, popping the ‘p’ with acidic glee. “Not until they reach a certain decibel.”

“A certain decibel?” Sam squeaked in disbelief.                

“Yes. I’ve calculated,” Jan informed him. “After the many, many, _many, many_ -“

“Jan,” Natasha interrupted.

“ ** _Many_** opportunities Steve and Tony have given me to observe their, um, _conversations_ , I’ve determined the exact moment intervention is necessary.” She preened when Natasha lifted one impressed eyebrow, even if it wasn’t enough to draw her away from her sandwich. “Too early and Tony gets defensive. The fight will escalate.”

Sam threw a worried glance to the other side of the quad. Steve and Tony were standing so close he had the momentary, if nonsensical thought, that they might pass out from inhaling each other’s carbon dioxide. “And…too late?”

“Too late…” Jan sighed. “And Tony starts crying.”

At that, silence fell over the table, broken only by Natasha slowly, carefully, placing her knife on the table with the kind of precision that made her friends shiver. “He’s made Tony cry?” she asked, just as slowly and carefully. _Just as terrifyingly_.

“Well, not in public,” Jan said with an unspoken ‘duh’ somewhere in there, and Natasha growled. The only one who made Stark cry was _her_.               

“Hey,” Sam protested, proud of himself when his voice only cracked a little. “Its not like Tony’s much better. Do you know how many punching bags Steve breaks after a go-round with Stark? Bloody knuckles, Natasha!”

Natasha’s sneer ticked up a notch. Steve was newly defrosted and lonely; Tony should know better. Be better.

“They’re both idiots,” she announced, and her two table-mates nodded, hard-pressed to disagree. As one, they turned to watch the idiots in question.

Looking back, the first time Tony had met Steve had gone amazingly well. There had been Tony, stars in his eyes, shaking Steve’s hand and refusing to let go, and there had been Steve, not even trying to pull away, listening with rapt attention as Tony explained everything about the Academy and the Avengers in one impossibly long breath. And if they had just left it there, Jan mourned, if they could just limit Steve and Tony to two-sentence interactions per day, things would go great.

But alas:

“What are you even talking about?” Tony screeched, then threw his hands up in the air. “Why am I even asking? You don’t know! You don’t know anything except punching things and doing the Charleston!”

“At least I know how to fight without a fancy suit of armor!” Steve shot back, not noticing Tony’s flinch. “At least I know how to actually live in the real world and not rely on robots to solve everything!”

“I built the suit!” Tony yelled, and Jan stood up. That was the decibel she’d been waiting for. “I build those robots! I know plenty about the real world, Rogers, you’re the one living in a fantasy.”

“Red alert!” Jan nearly yelled, and Natasha and Sam jumped from their seats to follow her.

Tony’s fists were balled up and he was nearly on his tiptoes just to compensate for those few extra inches. Steve’s fair skin was red, his chin turned up – defensive, but all Tony Stark could see was Captain America looking down his nose at him.

“Wake _up_ , Cap! This isn’t 1940 anymore!”

Maybe, Jan thought a bit desperately, revising her earlier opinion, maybe they’d just restrict them to bro-nods and manly grunts whenever they crossed paths. “Tony,” she said quietly, just a hint of admonishment in her tone, as she reached her best friend’s side. Tony looked down at her, the fight in him draining just a bit, and then looked back up at Steve-

-who had gone very pale, and very remote.  Sam was at his side now, Natasha placed firmly in the middle, and it seemed very quiet now that they weren’t yelling.

“You’re right, Stark,” Steve hissed quietly, ignoring Sam’s ‘come on, man.’ “My time is gone. Back then I had Peggy, and the Commandos, and _Howard Stark_.” He looked Tony up and down, and Jan wondered if Tony could see the sorrow behind the contempt Steve was so desperately trying to maintain. “Now what have I got?”

With that parting blow, he finally let Sam drag him away, leaving Tony staring after him, stiff and cold as a statue since his father’s name passed through Steve’s lips.

“Tony…” Jan began, but for the first time ever, Tony shrugged off her embrace.

“Cap needs to up his game if he thinks that will hurt me,” he said dully, and he was such a terrible liar. “I only hear it every other day.”

 _Not from Captain America, though,_ Natasha thinks, watching as Tony turns, as he and Steve walk away from each other. “Idiots,” she mutters to herself, leaving Jan to flutter after Tony as she heads towards Shield HQ to dig up more of Fury’s precious secrets. After that sad display, she needs all the cheering up she can get.

* * *

“Tell me what happened,” Jan said, linking her pinky through his as they laid out in the sun. She had finally convinced him to leave the Tower after the three day work binge that followed his chat with Steve with the promise of sand and sun and fun.

“This is not fun,” Tony drawled.

“Tony.”

“You promised.”

 _“Tony,”_ Jan said sternly. “You sulked for three days. Tony Stark is not meant for sulking! You are meant for explosions and world-saving and shiny new tech. And me, you’re best friend who has been deprived of your company, wasting away-“

“Oh my God,” Tony whispered to thin air.

“-who only wants to help you,” Jan finished, flopping a dramatic hand over her heart. “So let me help. Why did you and Steve fight?”

“Same reason we always do?” Tony said, shrugging. When Jan released a long suffering sigh he conceded. “Rogers and I had a disagreement over tactics, that’s all.”

“ _'That’s all?'_ Three days, Tony!” Jan swung her legs up and over, and that’s when Tony knew she was serious – this position was not sanctioned in her very precise tanning schedule.

“There was a call out in the city,” he said through gritted teeth. “Routine. Clean-up, practically. I sent the Legion to take care of it, which they did. Perfectly. Rogers had a problem with it. Started yelling about what if they had messed up, what if they had hurt somebody. _Which they didn’t_. Because I made them. Somehow that didn’t reassure him.”

“If it was just routine, we could have taken care of it though,” Jan said, and Tony stiffened. Slowly, he turned his head towards Jan, lowering his sunglasses so he could see her clearly. Jan raised her hands. “I’m sure your bots were perfect, Tony, but can’t you see his point? This is our job. What we signed up for. We shouldn’t leave it in the hands of-“

“Me?” Tony nearly snarled. “Look, I didn’t not go because I’m lazy, or unmotivated, or narcissitic or whatever else you and Rogers and Fury think of me-“

“Tony, I never said that,” Jan interjected, soft but firm.

“I built the Legion to help us. We can’t be everywhere. I mean, not all of us are one-man armies like some people.”

“Okay,” Jan said. “I know. Just, maybe, next time, ask him? Steve’s out of his depth here, Tony, he’s not used to any of this, and Fury just threw him in and told him to play leader-“

“So now I need his permission to help people?” Tony asked, incredulous, straightening up.

Jan sighed. Tony hated the sound of it, the familiarity of the disappointment in it. Howard would be proud of that sigh, he thought, and then hated himself for even comparing his best friend to Howard. “We’re supposed to be a team, Tony. His team.”

 _Isn’t that everything you ever wanted?_ she didn’t ask, maybe because she already knew the answer.

“I think I’m getting burnt,” he announced abruptly, standing up and grabbing his jacket.

“Tony-“

“I’ll text you later,” he tossed over, just to assure her he wasn’t mad. Jan, the absolute angel, let him be.

As he pounded the sidewalk, the sun setting to his left, his thoughts roiled. He knew Jan was right, knew that they were a team, rah rah rah. He just didn’t know how he fit into that.

How he fit with Steve. Captain America. Tony snorted derisively at himself. God, he had idolized Steve growing up, the young and glorious fallen hero, the boy wonder who had built his own legend. He could never live up to that, he had thought to himself when he was younger, and it was okay then, because he never would need to.

But now Steve was here, in his time, and everything Tony couldn’t be was staring him in the face. Well no, he corrected himself, that would dare imply that Steve saw him at all. Captain America looked at Tony Stark and saw everything wrong with the world, everything that wasn’t there for him.

 _“I watched men lay down their lives,”_ Rogers had said when he found out Tony had deployed the Legion. _“And you send your robots to do the job for you?”_

Tony would have done it. Iron Man would always be there when things got tough. But this wasn’t the war, and nobody needed to go dying in any trenches when Tony could help.

“The Avengers would have been there if help was needed!” Steve had shouted. “We would have been there for you, Stark.”

“But you didn’t have to be,” Tony had insisted, because he had done his job and protected his team. 

The sun sunk below the edge of the Time Fog, cloaking the grey-purple mist in darkness and warping the whirls and eddies into indistinct shapes. Tony reached out, running his fingers through it, feeling the familiar electric tingle of pure – and unknown – energy.

Usually the Time Fog was just that, a swirling mass of fog, though sometimes you could spot distant structures and figures looming. This time it seemed to wrap around Tony’s hand, holding tight, pulling at him.

“Whoa,” Tony muttered. “No, no, no, bad Time Fog, don’t do this.”

 _Big man_ , it whispered back. _Big man in a suit of armor._

“That’s me. Tony Stark. Red and gold, you got it, you brilliant incomprehensible weather front, you,” Tony cajoled. “You did good. Can I have my hand back?”

But it only pulled tighter and tighter, dragging him in. Tony opened his mouth, maybe to scream for help, when-

_Big man in a suit of armor._

_Take that off and what are you?_

And that – that had been Steve’s voice. Tony went a little slack with shock, giving ground to whatever force had a hold of him, before his senses came back.

“No!” he shouted, pulling with all his might. “I am not losing to an asshole time vortex! Let. Go!” He engaged the thruster in his right gauntlet, the one he never took off, and heaved. All at once the dragging force relented, and Tony fell backwards.

Another person landed on top of him.

 _Who weighed a fucking ton, holy shit_. “Ugh,” Tony groaned, pushing at broad, broad shoulders. “Get off, get off me.”

The stranger grunted, shaking his head as if to clear it before lifting it up. He, for it certainly was a he, froze when he caught sight of the arc reactor, peeking through the gap left in Tony’s zip-up. “Tony?” the stranger asked, and there was something about that voice. “Tony, am I glad to see you. I had the most-“ The man’s eyes, ever rising, lighted upon Tony’s face.

Tony knew that voice. Tony knew those eyes. As man’s eyes narrowed and he growled out “you’re not Tony,” Tony himself was scrabbling away on hands and feet with a small, squeaky “Steve?”

Both froze, sizing each other for a moment, before the man stood – and stood – and stood. Tony found himself gaping. “How much of you _is_ there?” he asked out loud.

“What?”

“Your body mass defies physics!” Tony declared, pointing accusingly at the Steve’s shoulder to waist ratio.

The Steve, who looked like he could eat Tony’s Steve for breakfast, cocked his head, a smile twitching at his lips that he couldn’t quite smooth away. “You sound like Tony. But you – did I –“ he suddenly looked horrified. “Did I time travel again?”

“No?” Tony breathed, and then he shook himself, scrambling to his feet. Right. Science. This was what he was supposed to be good at. “I mean, no! I don’t think so. Otherwise you’d be my Steve too, and he’s full grown and let me tell you buddy, you are like two of him.”

“He didn’t go through Project Rebirth?”

“No, he did, he’s just. I mean, he’s still strong, and fast, and-“ The other Steve was fully smiling now as Tony blundered all over the English language. “And he could still probably kick your ass, beefcake!”

“I’m sure,” Big Steve conceded graciously.

Tony rubbed the back of his neck. This could not be happening to him. “But, um. Behind you?” Big Steve obediently looked. “That’s the Time Fog. It does weird things to the space-time continuum. Things from other dimensions slip through the cracks here all the time.”

“And where is here?” Big Steve asked.

Tony gawped at him again. “You – you believe me? Just like that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Big Steve asked, looking genuinely perplexed. “You’re Iron Man.”

Tony’s mouth closed with a click and dammit, _he would not cry_! He couldn’t stop the small “oh, wow” that escaped him, though, because _that’s_ what it felt like. “You’re at Avengers Academy.”

Big Steve’s hand went to his head, pushing back the cowl as he took a good look around. “So, alternate dimensions, huh? Well, this is a sight better than where I was in my own, but I would like to get back. My friends are in danger,” he added, face darkening for a moment before he looked at Tony. “Will you help me, Tony?”

Tony swallowed. “Of course,” he barely managed. “Er, what’s wrong on your world?”

“I – well, to tell the truth, it’s a bit fuzzy, but I think we might be under attack by an alien force. I know my team can fight them back no matter what, but I need to be by their side.”

“You really believe in them, huh?” Tony asked.

“That’s the second time you’ve asked me that question.”

“No, the first time I asked about me.”

Big Steve shrugged. “Iron Man is part of my team. I trust him like I trust the others. And I trust him with my life.”

Tony stared at him, then looked down, pressing a button that would summon his armor. He needed to take some readings on the Time Fog. It was dark now, and Big Steve looked ethereal in the glow of the arc reactor.

“This is a school?” the older man asked quietly, looking around.

“Yeah. We train here – the Avengers. And other heroes, too, they come and visit. It’s – it’s nice. You can see my Tower, in the distance, see?” He pointed and waited for Steve’s nodded. “I built it all myself.”

“Of course you did. You’ve always been brilliant,” Big Steve said, sending a smile Tony’s way, and something warm unfurled in Tony’s chest. Slowly, though, Steve’s smile faded. “Tony…how old are you?”

“Me? I’m nineteen.”

Something passed through Steve’s eyes, so fast he couldn’t place it, and they flickered down once, twice, to the arc reactor. His jaw tightened and for a moment he looked exactly like the Steve that was probably asleep in the dorms two hundred feet away, and then he smiled again as the armor arrived, touching down.

“There’s a sight for sore eyes.” He ran one big, gloved hand along the armor’s shoulder. “I miss you, Shellhead.”

Tony watched that hand, the care in it, and felt shame inexplicably rise up in him. “I’m sorry,” he said, and Big Steve turned, perplexed.

“For what?”

“For – I mean. I could’ve been…him,” Tony said, gesturing at the armor. “But I’m not. That, well, that must be hard. For you.” He looked up and found those blue eyes watching him carefully. “It’s just you really seem to like your Tony. And I’m not. I’m not him.”

Steve said nothing and the tears that Tony had been fighting for what felt like days now welled up. “My Steve doesn’t like _me_ very much,” he admitted quietly to the ground. “Maybe that’s universal, is all. Multi-universal, actually.”

There was a moment’s quiet, and then Big Steve was there next to him, hand on his shoulder. “You’re here and you’re helping, Tony. For me, that’s all I need to know.”

“The other you-“ Tony stopped, shaking his head, but Big Steve just rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. “I was trying to help, but he didn’t like it. How I did it. He said we should do it together but then he doesn’t listen. I don’t know – I’m sorry.” Tony gritted his teeth. “Armor, scan for anomalies. I’m sitting here whining to you when-“

“Tony,” Big Steve said softly, and Tony shut up, finally daring to look up into those eyes again. “Your Steve, has he been out long? Of… of the ice, or wherever he was.”

“No. Weeks,” Tony answered, and closed his eyes when the other Steve’s mouth parted in shock. “I know, I’m the worst, okay, but you are really stubborn, alright?”

“…I am,” Steve admitted, and Tony looked up in shock. “My Tony and I have clashed more than once, believe me. Stubborn is a quality we both share.” Steve gave him a meaningful look there and Tony found himself flushing a bit. “But when I first came out of the ice, he was the one who helped me find my feet. I can’t tell you how lost I was before that. How lost your Steve probably feels. Be patient with him, Tony. He’s clinging to his old life, his old ways, and that will serve him well in some areas, but in others – well, I can tell you that I’m still learning myself.”

“He lost everything,” Tony said miserably. Steve didn’t even have his shield yet, because they couldn’t free it from the rubble.

“He did. But he got all this,” Big Steve said, gesturing around.

Tony looked down again. “I don’t think he thinks that’s worth much.”

“Then maybe you could help him change his mind.” Steve’s hand clenched down a little harder. “He needs you. He needs to have you at his back. Because I swear to you, Tony-“ And Steve ducked, catching Tony’s eyes and holding them steadily. “No matter what, no matter how angry he – _we_ get: we’ll always have yours.”

Tony didn’t dare blink as he slowly nodded. “I believe you,” he whispered, and the truth rang deep in his bones. Big Steve smiled, straightening up.

“Glad to hear it, Avenger. Now…” He trailed off, head turning towards the Time Fog. “Do you hear that?”

Tony strained, but there was nothing but their breathing and the far-off music from Club A. “No. What is it?”

“Voices. My friends’. From-“ Big Steve walked towards the Fog, holding a hand out. “From here.”

Tony checked over the output from the armor’s scans. “Readings aren’t picking up anything. The Time Fog is a little finicky though – hey!”

For Big Steve had stuck his hand right into the fog, and was inching forward. “I think this was just a temporary reprieve, Shellhead,” he called over his shoulder. “It’s time for me to go back.”

Tony ran to his side, hand gripping his, and Big Steve turned and smiled at him, a hint of fear he couldn’t quite hide. “I’ll be okay, Tony.”

“My Steve – my Steve said that the Avengers would always come for each other if they were in trouble,” Tony stammered out. “Yours will find you. Just – be patient, right?”

“Be patient,” Big Steve repeated. Half of his body was already inside. “Thank you,” he said, his smile a bit stronger now, and then his hand released Tony’s, and he was gone.

Tony stared at his empty hand for what seemed like an eternity, then let it drop.

“Open,” he ordered in a hoarse voice, and the armor obeyed. He climbed inside and took to the air, heading to the ruins they had uncovered barely a month ago. It was time to do some digging.

* * *

The suit was streaked with grime and mud by the time he stomped into the dorms at the asscrack of dawn. Up the stairs, three doors to the left. Tony had helped Sam show Steve to his rooms. Back before Steve figured out he hated him.

Be patient, Tony repeated to himself, and knocked on the door.

Steve was either an early riser or a light sleeper, because Tony only had to knock one more time before he was opening the door. “What is-“ the soldier began, unfairly alert, before he realized who it was. “Stark? Why are you in the suit? Why are you covered in mud?”

“Because I went digging,” Tony said, and thrust what he had uncovered into Steve’s arm. “For this.”

It took a moment for Steve to even drop his gaze and grab on to the edge digging into his stomach. As soon as he hands touched the cold metal, though, his eyes went wide and his lips pressed tight as a full body shudder ran through him.

“Captain America needs his shield,” Tony finished softly. “And I thought – well, you haven’t lost everything, see?”

“Tony…” Steve whispered, mindlessly running his hand over the star in the middle of his shield.

“So you do know my first name,” Tony muttered under his breath. Steve’s shoulder stiffened imperceptibly and he sighed. “Look, I got the shield because it belongs to you – and you know, I figure now instead of destroying punching bags you can give the Blasting Range a try. You need to start trying new things, Cap. Because. Because you’re here now. With us. And we, um. Well, we need you.”

Steve lifted his head, those keen eyes studying the face plate like he could see through it. To Tony. “You do?” he asked skeptically.

“Yeah,” Tony replied, and he hoped to God the voice modulator filtered out that breathless quality. He coughed a little, wringing his iron fingers together. “Who else can pull off stars and stripes?” And praise Einstein, was that a smile on Steve Rogers face? Better ruin this while there’s something to ruin, Tony. “And just so you know: this isn’t an apology, okay? I don’t think I was wrong in sending out the Legion. They’re there to help us, and I got permission from Fury to build them.”

Steve opened his mouth and Tony barged on. “But next time, I’ll ask – _discuss it_ with you. What we should do.”

Steve looked like he didn’t like that option much better than Tony blithely sending out his robots, but before he could argue, his eyes again got caught on the gleam of his shield.

“So,” he began gruffly, then cleared his throat. “This wasn’t an apology?”

“No,” Tony repeated firmly.

“This was just…out of the goodness of your heart?” Steve asked, and Tony’s eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on him earlier, that was a smile!

“I don’t think I have one of those,” Tony said, and no voice modulator could fix the laughter in his voice. He reached up, tapped the arc reactor twice, and tilted his head to listen to the metallic sound. “Nope. Tony Stark is fueled by pure _science_.”

Steve rolled his eyes and it was almost fond. “Raise the faceplate already.” Cautiously, Tony obeyed, and when his eyes met Steve’s it was like the dawn had broken all over again. “Thank you, Tony.”

“What are teammates for?” Tony quipped, but Steve’s eyes were serious as they took him in. The smile had faded, but never disappeared.

“I guess we’ll find out, Iron Man.”


	2. "Just like the good old days..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is a stock phrase Cap uses in the game.

The three sighed as yelling erupted from the far side of the quad. “And it was going so well,” Sam said. Next to him, new kid Brian Falsworth a.k.a. Union Jack tilted his head as he watched the squabbling pair of Steve and Tony.

“I think we may have set a record this time,” Jan remarked. “Natasha?”

The spy shook her head. “Two weeks ago. They ate an entire lunch together. Fighting didn’t break out until they were inside the Timeless Archives. That was forty eight minutes and eighteen seconds. Today was-“ She checked her watch. “Thirty nine minutes and two seconds.”

“They’re getting worse?” Sam asked, dismayed. Natasha only shrugged.

“Not really. On average, they’re getting better. Something must have set one of them off early today.”

“I don’t understand.” In unison, they turned to the newcomer. Brian was still staring across the quad. “They’re your friends. Shouldn’t you all try to put a stop to this?”

Natasha snorted. “They don’t deserve it.”

“What Natasha means,” Jan interjected, throwing a glare the other girl’s way. “Is that it doesn’t help. Trust me, we’ve tried.”

“What do you think did it this time?” Sam asked, leaning back so he could see beyond Brian. From the looks of it, Tony was trying to shove something into Steve’s hands and Steve wasn’t taking it. He sighed. “Another part of Tony Stark’s Across the Century in Eighty Days.”

“He’s just trying to help,” Jan said, always defensive of her best friend. “He wants Steve to fit in here.”

“Well, he’s helping too much,” Sam replied bluntly. “He’s pushing. Steve hates that. He think it’s pity, and if there’s anything Steve Rogers doesn’t want to be, it’s pitied. The movies, the music, the constant barrage of pop culture references-“

“To be fair to Tony, he’d be doing that last one regardless,” Natasha interjected.

“All I’m asking is: Jan. Please. As our local Tony wrangler, can you please ask him to back off a little?”

Jan shook her head. “He’ll figure it out on his own.” At her friends’ dubious looks she pouted. “He will. Tony’s been trying really hard with Steve lately, and I know Steve’s noticed. It can’t all be for nothing. They’ll work it out.”

“Oh ye of incredibly biased faith,” Natasha muttered, but it was lost to the sound of Steve’s yell cutting loud and clear through the air.

_“I’m not a machine that you can plug in a new part and fix, Tony!”_

They turned, watching, waiting for the blow up, for the moment to act, but Tony just balled his fists and stood his ground. “Nobody said that you were, Cap.”

“Then stop trying to fix me!” Steve shouted. “Just-“ He shoved Tony’s hand, clutching whatever Tony had tried to show him, back into the smaller boy’s chest. “Just leave me alone.”

He began to walk away, and the group almost relaxed at what was for Steve and Tony a fairly pleasant end to one of their fights, when Tony stumbled after him, catching his hand. “Will you at least come to Movie Night tonight?”

“Tony,“ Steve sighed, looking over his shoulder. “Can’t we just-“

“C’mon, Steve, it’ll be fun. I’m showing _Independence Day_.” Something in Steve’s face seemed to shutter and he brushed Tony off, walking towards Shield HQ. “It’s an American classic!” Tony shouted after him, but Steve didn’t slow.

Jan stood up, ready to head Tony and any of his tears off, but she paused, looking down at the table. “You had all better show up for that movie tonight!” She hissed, and then flitted across the quad to where Tony stood, staring down at his hand.

“I never turn down Will Smith and aliens,” Sam said out loud, gathering up his own lunch and heading off, leaving Natasha and Brian on their own.

After a long moment where the British spy stared at the ever-widening gap between Steve and Tony, he finally smiled. “Curious. Tell me, Widow, have I missed some American custom when it comes to courtship, or is Tony just inventing new ways to be terrible at it?”

“Well, inventing is kinda his…” Natasha trailed off as what Brian said caught up to her. “Wait, Tony? With Steve? No. No, that can’t be right.”

“I assure you it is,” Brian said, insufferably sure. “I believe you Yanks have borrowed a phrase from the Japanese, what is it…oh yes. ‘Notice me, senpai.’ Though Heaven help Tony once Steve finally does.” Natasha felt her mouth fall open as several things fell into place. Brian took no notice, gathering up his jetpack and facemask to head to class. “Ah, well. Until that time, I’ll be happy to join Stark for body shots at the club. Care to join?”

“I thought you said Tony wasn’t your type,” Natasha said faintly, still trying to process.

Brian shrugged. “I did. But Tony theorizes that he’s everyone’s type, and neither one of us are the type to let a hypothesis go untested. I’ll see you later, Lady Widow.”

And Natasha sat there, lamenting that once again, she had been proven the lesser spy. She should do the honorable thing, and fall on her Widow Bites.

* * *

 

Most nights, Steve walked the perimeter of the campus.

It was an old habit he couldn’t quite break from back in his time in the war, formed early on when his superiors hadn’t given him much to do. With the serum he hadn’t needed much sleep, and though glad-handling and lifting showgirl-laden motorcycles had been exhausting, it hadn’t been the right kind. Not enough to help him sleep.

Then when he was finally allowed to really fight in the war, alongside Bucky and the Commandos, he hadn’t been able to stop, too worried at any moment that something might come for them. The things he had seen…

Now, he walked because he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t settle, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t…be. Sometimes he felt like he was still trapped in the war, and sometimes he felt guilty that he wasn’t, that he had got out.

…and sometime he couldn’t sleep for thoughts of everything he’d lost.

He’d thought those night had gotten better in the last few weeks. He’d thought he could maybe carve out a place here. And if he was to be honest, which he always tried to be, he knew a good portion of that was down to Tony Stark helping him find his feet. After that huge blowup over the Legion, Stark had tried, in his own backwards way, to be more understanding.

But the more he tried, the more it hurt. The more he showed Steve, the more it seemed like Tony was rubbing in his face everything Steve had missed. He was always looking for _something_ when he looked at Steve, and it drove him crazy. Steve thought he was done with feeling like he wasn’t enough.

Everything just came so easy to Stark. He had never known a struggle in his life, or if he did he just built a piece of tech to take care of it for him. It wasn’t like that for Steve – it couldn’t be, and he didn’t want it to, anyway. He wouldn’t be who he was or where he was without everything he had gone through…

…it was just that sometimes he didn’t want to be. But who was Captain America to break down in the middle of quad and cry that he just wanted to go home?

He sighed as he rounded the corner near the Robodojo and headed toward the TimeFog. He shouldn’t have shouted at Tony like that. He should’ve just taken the tech and done what he’d done with everything Tony had shoved at him in the last week – ignore it. Stark would lose interest in making Steve his project sooner or later.

Night was beginning to fall. Movie night would start soon, he thought bitterly. He wondered if Stark had rigged up some robots to make genuine lazer effects light he had for that Star War film. Fury had thrown a fit.

He brushed against the Time Fog, thinking, for just a moment, what it would be like to just walk into it. The thought of time traveling again, though, was just a bit too terrifying.

And then he heard it.

_I look at you._

Was that – coming from the Fog? Were they about to get another interdimensional visitor? Quickly, Steve swung the shield off his back and onto his hand, ready for a fight.

_I look at you and all I see…_

That voice sounded almost familiar to Steve. If it was higher, maybe, less husky-

_…are the mistakes._

-it would sound like-

Wildly, Steve lashed out at the Fog, jumping back a little when instead of whipping through the mist, the shield bounced back as if hitting something solid. The Fog condensed and sharpened for a moment, growing darker and darker, and then, just as soon fell completely beyond the horizon, appeared to solidify into a black mass roughly the size of a door.

Through which a person promptly fell through.

The man – for though shorter and thinner than Steve, it was clearly a man – landed on all fours with a pained grunt and a sickening ‘clack’ as knee met sidewalk.

“Jesus _fuck_ ,” the stranger groaned, arms wobbling precariously. “Even in my dreams it hurts.”

Steve stared at him for a few more seconds, trying to work out what had just happened; things fell out of the Time Fog all the time, but usually Professor Pym could predict their arrival or Director Fury would send a team to recover and, if necessary, restrain.

Steve was on his own here. “Hello,” he started, and almost rolled his eyes at how lame it sounded. But what else could he say. “I don’t know who you are, but this is the Avengers Academy in New York City. I’m Captain America. Get on your feet and put your hands in the air...please.”

As he talked, he watched the line of the stranger’s spine grow stiffer and stiffer, and, without looking up, the man rocked upright onto his knees, one hand fiddling at the other wrist. “Godammit,” Steve heard him mutter.

“Get on your feet,” Steve repeated, a growing sense of unease in his gut.

“Boy, do you know what I don’t miss it?” The stranger asked, rising up with a surprising amount of grace. He was in what Steve finally noticed looked like hospital scrubs. “You.”

“What?”

The stranger turned his face towards the light and Steve couldn’t stop himself, he took a step back. “Ordering me around,” Tony Stark – a Tony Stark finished with a growl.

“Tony?” he breathed, because it was impossible, either way. It couldn’t be Tony – this man had to be in his forties, and he was certainly shorter than Steve’s own Tony, not to mention he had no arc reactor. But it had to be Tony – that ridiculous hair, that innate swagger, _those eyes_.  

“Cap,” the Tony returned, and in all of their fights Steve had never heard his Tony spit out his name with such venom. “Mind telling me what’s going on?”

That was another thing – his Tony didn’t leak danger, his Tony didn’t seem to cut through everything just by existing. His Tony wasn’t like this. Something was very wrong.

“I figure either this is a dream, and I’ve summoned up a younger, prettier Captain to allay my conscience, or something seriously wrong has happened.”

“Alternate universe,” Steve blurted, forcibly shoving that ‘prettier’ out of his mind. “You’re in an alternate universe. You came in through that – we call it the Time Fog. It’s like a tear in space made corporeal.” He gestured to the wall of mist and Tony, keeping his body facing squarely forward, turned his head to follow. “Things fall through sometimes. From other places.”

After a long, long moment, the other man turned fully, stepping forward and running a hand through the mist. He let out a low curse. “You know, I think I’d rather be dreaming.”

“You believe me?” Steve asked, a bit surprised by the easy acceptance.

A harsh laugh and a ‘fuck, no’ answered him. “I believe the universe – universes, I guess – have one hell of grudge for me, though,” he continued, pulling back. “And I – I know my dreams. This isn’t one of them. God _dammit_. I can’t afford to be gone right now. I’ve got people counting on me back home.” He sounded so angry and _lost_.

He sounded like Steve.

“We’ll do our best to help you. The Academy, I mean. We’ve got Professor Pym, and there’s you – uh, this world’s you - and the rest of the Avengers. We’ll do everything we can.”

The other Tony eyed him, not particularly friendly, but not with the burning contempt Steve had been met with thus far. “…you’re not as good at these speeches as my Cap,” he finally declared and Steve, surprised, let out the breath he’d been unknowingly holding in a punched out laugh. “Yeah, its okay, you can laugh. That’s a compliment.”

“You must – you don’t seem to like him much,” Steve ventured cautiously. Tony raised one sardonic eyebrow that he had seen on his own Tony’s face a thousand times. He didn’t hate it any less on this older, bitter Tony either.

“What gave it away.”

Steve didn’t know why that hurt, that this Tony couldn’t stand his Steve. He didn’t always like his Tony, himself, but…but they were friends, in their own way. There was nothing friendly in this Tony’s gaze as he looked upon Steve and saw another man. Another him. Maybe that’s what hurt. To see such coldness in the same eyes he saw every single day, shining up at him – sometimes with laughter, more often than Steve liked with wrath, but always something, never blank and icy and dead – it was like something had been stolen from him.

Steve wondered if that Steve hated this Tony, too.

“Why?” was all he could manage, and for a moment, he thought he saw a light flicker in those dark eyes.

Tony lifted a hand to his chest and pressed, hard. “We fought – the press called it a war. Me against him, with a side helping of Avengers.”

“Wh - over what?” Steve asked, flabbergasted. He couldn’t even imagine his fun loving classmate getting angry enough to fight a war.

“…Expectations, mostly,” Tony answered, so quietly Steve almost couldn’t hear him. Then his face hardened, his tone brisk. “You don’t look like you have to worry about that here, though, all this… _school spirit._ An Academy, was it? I’m betting there’s some Fury equivalent bossing you around, yeah?”

“Director Fury,” Steve answered, still a little dazed from the fact that another him and Tony _fought a war_ , and Tony gave that derisive snort again. “I should have taken him to you five minutes ago; he gets antsy when people break protocol.”

But Tony wasn’t paying attention to him, walking a little way so he could see more of the campus. “It’s not a bad idea, I suppose. All those supers in one place, training. Ross would have a field day…Oh, what’s that?”

He pointed off in the distance, towards the direction of Stark Tower. “Is that mine?” he asked, amused. “It’s so _small_. And is Mini-me hosting movie nights? How domestic.”

Steve scowled, dim horror retreating behind familiar irritation and not even recognizing the bitter jealousy in Tony’s voice. “Yes. He does that.”

“I know that face. Not a fan of – crap, I’m getting old, what is that?”

“ _Independence Day_ ,” Steve gritted out. “And no.”

Tony laughed. “Nice to know Will Smith is multi-universal, at least. You’d probably like it, Cap – Bill Paxton, hm, wait, maybe it’s Pullman – anyway, gives this speech at the end? You should take notes.”

“I’m fine. I don’t. I don’t need to see his stupid movies." Steve would hate how childish he sounded if it didn't feel so good to finally get some of this off his chest.

A sly, unkind smile bloomed across the other Tony’s face. “And there it is. It’s not the movie. It’s _me_. And people wonder why I have an ego. So tell me, Rogers, what did I do this time?”

“You-“ Steve’s hands were shaking. He couldn’t stop talking once he started. “Of course it’s you. Its all about Tony Stark, right, damn how anyone else feels! You know, you may not like me - other me - but you're no peach either!"

"I have been told that, yes," Tony remarked, unruffled but for the tightening in his jaw. "Still not seeing the connection here."

God, Stark always made him feel so _stupid_. "You - _he_ started dragging me to movies, forcing me to watch and he knew I didn’t get it, but - so I stopped. You know what he did? He started displaying them like that, up on the Tower, so that I couldn’t avoid them, and he made it into this thing, this _inescapable_ thing, like he does _everything_. All the tech and the – sometimes just the way he talks! He keeps…suffocating me! I don’t want to know! I don’t want to know the latest song, or what a Furby is, or how to turn off Safe Search, or who Will Smith is. I don’t want to know yet! I want –“ He caught himself. _I want to go home._ “He’s always throwing it in my face! How much I’ve missed.”

He could barely get the last words out, could barely look at Tony, even though he could feel the other man’s steady gaze burning a hole in the side of his head. A hot wash of shame rushed through Steve, that he lost control like that on a man who seemed to have plenty of problems of his own. On letting someone else _see_ him like this.

“How old are you?”

It isn’t what he’s expecting, and dammit it should have been; trust Tony Stark to ask the one question that made him feel even more foolish. “Biologically?” he bit out. Tony nodded. “Twenty two.”

Tony closed his eyes, breathing in deeply and conspicuously evenly. “Yeah, okay, that – Christ.” And what was _that_ supposed to mean?

“I’ve been Captain America for three years,” Steve said defensively. “I was in the Army, I fought in the war, I lead my men to the best of my abilities – and as well as any other Captain America.”

“That’s – not at all why I was asking,” Tony muttered, but there was a difference in the way he looked at him now.

Steve bristled. “I’m fine.”

“You sure? ‘Cause you seem pretty angry there, kid,” Tony said, a tiny hint of his smirk reappearing. “Don’t tell me this is the first time you’re letting this all out. Discretion is not a better part of your valor.”

“We have that in common, then,” Steve snapped back. “I’ve told him. He doesn’t listen. He just tries something else.”

“Maybe he’s trying to find something you’ll like.”

“I don’t want-“

“Maybe he wants to know you’ll stay,” Tony added softly, and it cut through the air like a knife.

Steve’s mouth clicked shut. The other Tony watched him for a second longer, then looked away. “Maybe he thinks,” he said haltingly. “That if he finds something for you, it’ll be that much easier - to settle in here, to feel…at home. Giving you an anchor.”

 _This can never be home_ , he thought. It was just so much here, _too_ much here. He’d never even gone to college in his time, too poor and then fighting, and now he was thrust into science classes whose _basics_ seemed advance and history lessons that told him about a future he never got to have. He’d led the Howling Commandos as best he could, but how could that prepare him for a team of young heroes who could wipe the floor with whole platoons of the Axis armies?*

“That’s a lot of maybes,” he said quietly.

Tony spread his hands. “You need some hard data, you’re looking at it. If he’s anything like me-“ A pause that hung heavily in the air. “He’s not doing it to hurt you.”

“Is this what you did?” Steve asked. “With your Steve?”

“My Steve,” Tony parroted with a self-deprecating chuckle. “No. I didn’t. It probably wouldn’t have mattered if I had. AC/DC and _Star Wars_ don’t hold a lot of weight against memories, do they?” Tony rubbed at his chest again, watching Steve in a way that made him feel uncomfortably like he was being catalogued. Something settled in the other Tony’s face, something determined. “He’ll get the idea, you know. He’ll drop it eventually. And then you can go back to wallowing in peace.”

“I don’t wallow,” Steve shot back.

Tony shrugged. “I’m not saying it’s undeserved, alright, waking up seventy years in the future can’t be fun. But you’re gonna what? Brood and mope on your own and not let anyone help. That sound like a solid plan to you, Cap?”

Steve gritted his teeth. “Being a jerk is a constant for you, isn’t it, Stark?”

“Well, you do bring out the best in me, Captain.” It was not the teasing riposte it might have been from his own Tony. “You got a Natasha? A Sam? They’ve always liked you. Everyone likes you. Everyone wants to be your friend. Even Mini-me, who, just looking around, has built about half this campus, is Iron Man, probably works at Stark Whatever, and is apparently still taking time out of his day to try and help you out.”

“I never asked for his help!” Steve almost shouted.

“Well, I knew my Cap always blathering on about ‘together’ was just for show,” Tony remarked idly. His eyes were bright thought, more alive than they had been. “Nice to have it proven in two universes.”

“What do you-“

“If you saw one of your teammates going through a hard time, if they were up against the wall, would you let them face that fight alone?”

Steve shook his head, and Tony’s mouth twisted in an odd grin-grimace. “You think they don’t want to do the same for you, fearless leader?”

His words slowly sunk in, and just for a second Steve let himself see it, began to let himself hope that – that Natasha invited him to the Dojo not to be sure his skills were up to snuff because the Avengers needed him on top of his game, but because sparring was how she had fun. That Jan made him outfits not because she needed another dummy but because fashion was her passion and she wanted to share it. That Kamala didn’t show him all those fansites to make him aware of the expectations but to let him know how much he meant to people. That Sam’s naturally nurturing personality didn’t mean that he didn’t also genuinely like Steve as a person.

That Tony wasn’t trying to flay him bare and expose how he was lacking, how he was so already so far behind, but was trying to share the future, because Tony loved the future. Tony loved those movies, and those stupid references, and the tech and that by sharing his love, Tony was sharing himself.

That he wasn’t only Captain America here; he didn’t have to leave Steve Rogers in the past.

“But hey,” the other Tony blathered on. “Like I said, Tiny Stark will catch the hint eventually. Maybe it’ll be better this way. Not like he needs you, either – he’s got a Rhodey, right?”

Steve furrowed his brow, a bit lost. “…Rhodes? War Machine? He’s transferring soon-“

Tony waved a hand. “Then your Tony will be fine.”

“Like you?” Steve challenged. Tony grinned, wide and unkind.

“Exactly.”

Steve shook his head. He and Tony may not get along all the time but - “We’re not going to end up like you two.”

And he could’ve sworn for a moment that the man’s smile almost turned genuine before he leaned forward, casting half his face into shadow. “Prove it.”

He was opening his mouth to respond when Tony lurched a little, grabbing at his midsection.

“Whoa, that’s uncomfortable,” the man remarked.

Steve stepped forward, suddenly worried. Tony was dressed in scrubs, after all, who knew what kind of situation he had fallen out of when the Time Fog got him.

“Shield HQ has a full medical bay, just -” he offered. When the other Tony raised an eyebrow and him and his outstretched arms, he gestured up and down the other man’s body. “You’re, well, the way you’re dressed, I thought-“

Tony looked down at himself and, very slowly, lifted a hand to rest over his heart. He pulled a bit at the scrubs and the neckline dipped low, revealing the top of a spiderweb of scars and the curve of a truly hideous bruise. No, Steve thought dimly, horrified. He had seen his Tony’s chest; everyone had, it’s not like the teen was shy. It didn’t look like that, it was clear and smooth except for the reactor-

The reactor. This man must have had one, too. What _happened_ to it?

“Well, I am dying, so points for observation, Cap,” the other Tony said quietly. “My heart isn’t what it used to be.” He laughed then, bitter, a joke Steve didn’t want to understand. “They put me under for the surgery and I woke up here. But this isn’t that kind of pain. More like a pull.” He turned towards the Time Fog, watching the mist swirl. “Maybe it didn’t work. Maybe I died and this is my brain cells throwing a last hoorah. I’ve always been so creative; maybe it’s a dream after all, even you. Maybe I wanted to see a Steve I didn’t have to hate anymore.”

“That’s a lot of maybes,” Steve repeated, like that last sentence wasn’t a lance through his heart.

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, his voice soft. “Let’s get some hard data.”

He walked towards the Fog almost as if in a trance and Steve hurried after him. “Hey, wait! People don’t go back in there, just wait until I can get Professor Pym or-“

“Hank Pym can’t tell me anything I don’t already know,” Tony said with a snort. “No, I need to go. I – well, no matter what, I got people waiting on the other side.”

He pushed a hand forward so it sunk into the Fog. Steve grabbed onto his shoulder, one more wait dropping from his lips, and Tony turned. He looked…scared. Sad.

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispered, because – because someone had to. Because this Tony clearly needed to hear it.

Tony’s eyes widened, his eyes flicking wildly – hopefully? - over Steve’s face before he caught himself. His gaze went cold again, only a tiny flicker of light to even show he was alive. “Me too, Steve,” he finally managed, and then he stepped out from under Steve’s hand, and through the Fog.

He let his hand drop to his side and watched until the mist settled again, then he took a step back and breathed. Went over to his shield, dropped somewhere along the way, and swung it onto his back.

He headed towards the brightest light on campus.

* * *

 

Things were beginning to explode on the giant screen perched atop the balcony platform of Stark Tower when he arrived. The lawn was crowded with people: kids and teens who had started to come to Avengers Academy’s movie nights, and Avengers themselves. Kamala and Jessica had climbed atop the schawarma stand Tony had insisted on installing, Natasha curled up in a fuzzy black and red bean bag – cupholders included – while Brian perched on the grass at her side. A-Bomb was resting on his stomach, Janet sitting daintly across his broad back. Even Loki was there, though he was standing what he probably considered a perfectly disdainful distance away.

He found Sam surrounded by a gaggle of kids who all cried out when they say him. “Glad you could make it, Steve,” Sam said with a warm smile that Steve let himself return over the shoulder of the little girl he’d gotten down on his knees to hug.

“I’ve been told it’s a classic?”

Sam laughed. “Da – uh, darn straight.”

“Is that your shield?” a little boy asked him, staring at his back with wide eyes that then moved to Steve’s face and, if possible, lit up even more.

Steve carefully untangled the girl’s arms from around his neck to reach back and pull his shield around, handing it to the boy. “Sure is. Want to hold it?”

“Oh!” They all darted forward at once, six children all eager to even touch Captain America’s shield. Their smiles were bright, and happy, and contagious. The encounter with that cold stranger almost melted away.

Almost.

“Keep it safe for me, alright?” They looked up at him with awestruck eyes and nodded. Steve turned to Sam. “Have you seen Tony?”

Sam didn’t speak for a moment, just looked at him, searching for something. Then he jerked his thumb to the far corner of the small pavilion Tony had cordoned off earlier on for his Tower and his toys. “Last I saw he was with Pepper. Movies are apparently the best time to get him to sign paperwork.”

“Only time he sits down,” Steve said, squinting in that direction. Sure enough, he spotted the bright flare of Tony’s arc reactor. He stood with a sigh, squaring his shoulders.

“You gonna stick around?” Sam asked. “You have to see the President’s speech at least; I’m pretty sure you’ll cry.”

Sam looked hopeful. Not for Captain America, not the way those kids looked at him, but for his buddy Steve. “Yeah,” he answered. “I’ll stick around.” He even managed to remember to hit the fist Sam held out with his own as he walked past him to get to Tony.

Tony and Pepper were huddled together on two more bean bags like Natasha's that Steve realized must have been made by Tony himself. Pepper's was a white-and-magenta striped velvet creation that was so large it almost laid flat while Tony's was predictably red and gold and much more structured. It also had a built in holographic desk that the genius was currently scribbling away at with a stylus. 

Tony wasn't even watching the movie and yet the closer Steve got, the more clearly he could hear him recite the lines sometimes even before the characters on-screen said them. However, when Pepper saw him coming and said "Captain Rogers" Tony's head snapped up so fast Steve worried for his neck.

He caught and held those dark brown eyes for a moment, unintentionally looking for coldness and basking in the life he found instead. Tony looked a bit petrified, honestly, but there was no hint of contempt or hatred.

Tony would never hate him. They would fight and argue but Tony would never be so cold.

_Right?_

He let his gaze slide to Pepper and smiled. "Just Steve is fine." Pepper obligingly greeted him again, first name only this time, but Steve had already turned back to Tony, shifting from one foot to another before he caught himself.

"You know?" Pepper said, a bit too brightly. "I think I want some popcorn. I'm gonna go get some. Steve, do you mind keeping Tony company?" She was already standing and gathering her things. "He just dies without the chance to explain all the scientific inaccuracies in movies."

"Pep," Tony whined, but she just waved over her shoulder as she headed away, leaving the two boys to stare at each other.

A beep from his mobile desk and Tony broke first, looking down. After a pause he gestured beside him. "Pull up a bag, Cap. You know there's one for you, too, somewhere."

"You made me one of these?" Steve asked as he sat. It felt like sitting on a particularly firm cloud. 

"Duh. You never come to these though, so I think it's been permanently co-opted by Taskmaster," Tony said without looking up. "Your loss."

Steve swallowed. "Tony."

Tony, still not looking, stabbed at his digital display angrily. "Can we skip this part? Okay? I know I messed up. I know I'm pushing you. I know you don't like it and you want me to stop. I - I get it. I mean, the movie nights, I'm not stopping that. People like them. But I'll leave you alone. I'll," he inhaled deeply, like he was steadying himself. "I'll be patient."

"Or maybe next time I could pick the movie?"

For several seconds, Steve got to experience the unique sight of a speechless Tony Stark as the teen opened and closed his mouth and then very carefully laid down his stylus. "What?"

"Tony, would you please look at me?" Tony almost did; his head turned towards Steve even though his eyes locked on a spot somewhere over his right shoulder. But it was enough. All Steve wanted was to see his eyes. "Look. I...I didn't choose this. To be here, I mean. So. I would like to choose everything else."

Tony slowly nodded, but from the furrow appearing on his brow Steve could tell he didn't quite get it.

"I know that you were just trying to help," he said softly, not missing the quirk of Tony's eyebrow at that. "But it didn't feel like that to me. Everything you showed me just made me realize how out of place I really was."

At this, Tony's eyes finally met his, big and round and sad. "Oh," the other man said quietly. "Um. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Steve said, and realized that it really was. 

"It's just. I thought like, culture shock, you know? So immersion was the way to go. Not that you can really avoid that, what with being stuck here and all." Tony looked down. "But I figured that having something that could be yours here, that you could like, point to and it was familiar? that would make it easier, at least."

 _Giving you an anchor_.

"Bad hypothesis," Tony said with a forced laugh.  

"Not entirely." Tony looked at him with such shock it made him smile. "Some of the stuff you've shown me has been pretty swell. So maybe we could just, er, change the methods?" The tiny grin that got him encouraged Steve to continue. "Like next week, I'll pick the movie. And if I want a recommendation, I'll ask."

Tony suddenly straightened, looking excited. "But that's why you should have let me give you this!" He pulled out the tiny device he'd tried to give Steve earlier this afternoon. "It's an Omniwave - a multimedia device. You can put music and movies and audiobooks on here and this way it'll be at your speed." Tony powered it on and then frowned at the very full display that popped up. "Well, okay, not this one. I kinda loaded it up with all my favorite stuff, but I'll build you a new one and show you how to use it and-"

He stopped, looking down for a moment and then back up at Steve with a smile that seemed peculiarly brave. "And you won't even need me this way, see? It'll be your choice."

Steve stared at that smile, at those bright brown eyes, at a Tony who cared. _How could this change? How could we ever come to hate each other? How could we ever fight like they did?_

"Give it here," he said. When Tony didn't move, he held out a hand. "I need somewhere to start from, right? You've gotten me this far, Stark, you can't abandon me now."

Tony's smile morphed into something incredulous and shy as he slowly laid the Omniwave on Steve's outstretched palm. "I put Lord of the Rings on there, the movie adaptations. You should check those out first."

"Okay," Steve agreed, pocketing the slim rectangle of plastic that apparently somehow held three movies. "But - how about we finish up this one? I've been told the President's speech is aces."

"You will cry," Tony replied promptly. "Are you - are you staying here? Do you want me to go get back your bean bag from Taskmaster?"

"No."

"But - it's got heating pads and earphones and -"

"Tony, you know I don't need all the tech and the gadgets, right?" Steve asked. "Just you is fine."

Tony tilted his head, confused. "But this is me," he said, gesturing at his own high-tech bean bag chair. Steve shook his head, letting it go. Tony would get it soon enough. 

"Let's go sit with Sam," he suggested, and Tony stood. "Where is his, by the way? He doesn't have a bean bag."

Tony waved his hand. "Enchantress turned it into a slug because Sam compared her to the Wicked Witch of the West. Joke's on her though, 'cause Fury told her she had to take care of it."

"I'm sorry to have missed that," Steve said, and he genuinely was.

Tony smiled, bright as could be. "Don't sweat it. We caught it all on video. Two million hits on YouTube, Cap, you should look it up."

"I will."

And Tony led him down the lawn towards Sam and the kids, babbling about how the dog in the movie could not possibly live through the explosion that just occurred "but isn't it great that he does?" and mocking bad science, giving that same bright smile to Steve over and over as if daring Steve to return it with one of his own.

 _I look at you and all I see are the mistakes_ , another Tony out there was saying to another Steve, but his Tony didn't look at him like that, not now that Steve knew what to look for. And he wasn't the cold, bitter Tony from the Time Fog either. No, Tony couldn't become him. They wouldn't have to fight a war or hate each other.

They'd be fine. 

Steve let himself relax, ignoring that sliver of doubt that had lodged itself next to a sliver of dread in the back of his mind, and committed to enjoying tonight. And as he and Tony sat down amongst Sam and the kids, for one perfect moment, Steve felt like he belonged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully my writing actually managed to convey this and if it didn't, shame on me, but AvAc Steve in the game is basically a Jock character who has a heart of pure gold. He's like the sports kids you knew in high school who wanted you to have FUN with them in gym and when they clapped hands with the opposing team at the end of play and said "great game" _they actually meant it_. He's that guy. What that also means is he's cocky, he's competitive, and he's YOUNG. Younger than any other Steve, and I think in a lot of ways that would make him even more stubborn and sad about being in the future. There's a lot more I could type about this, because AvAc skewing their characters that young and keeping their backgrounds mostly intact is TERRIFYING, but I'll let my writing (hopefully) speak for itself.


	3. "If we stick together, nothing can stop us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is, as always, an in-game stock quote from Captain America.
> 
> Many thanks go out to nostalgicatsea, who helped me finally get this chapter on the road. You can find her on tumblr or on here under that screenname, she's a heck of a writer. I got a little carried away with the crack in the beginning so if you're here strictly for Steve/Tony, just bear through it for me please!
> 
> Things you need to know: Early writing in AvAc was WEIRD and missed the mark a lot. This was mostly fixed AFTER the CW event. AvAc Steve before CW really does seem to think that Tony's reliance on his bots and his tech makes him lazy and less accomplished (note: AvAc Tony kinda encourages this because he's a bit of a jerk). This is odd because most Steves don't tend to have that problem with Tony. So I tried to examine that and ended up kinda doing a weird hyper-combo of A) The AoU Steve/Tony fight and B) The 616 Extremis Steve/Tony fight.  
> 1872 Marvel is a real comics series.

"...and that's how we took down the Archon of Imperi VI," Gamora finished with a self-satisfied grin as Natasha and Sam leaned back in their seats impressed. The spy actually raised an eyebrow, which, for anyone who knew her, spoke to how impressed she was.

"I never thought of using a staple gun that way!" Sam added, and then, in an aside to no one muttered "I can't believe space is still using staple guns."

The Guardians of the Galaxy had arrived not five days ago, the _Milano_ screaming down from the sky, clipping Stark Tower and landing in a corner of the campus as it was chased by Ronan and his Chitauri soldiers. So far, they were settling in nicely and proving an invaluable help in the fight against the space invaders. Gamora was whip-smart and blade-sharp, Drax and Groot hit like tanks, Rocket and Peter Quill brought the fire power, and they'd even brought a talking dog!

The first wave of the attack had been hard without them, the Avengers unaccustomed and unprepared for the aliens' advanced weaponry. They'd beaten them back with no small struggle and Tony Stark had been working day and night churning out better equipment for everyone and preparing his Iron Legion to fight alongside the SHIELD agents that Steve Rogers had personally trained.

The Chitauri wandered the campus day and night, but Ronan was being cautious after his first attack failed and the Guardians were subsequently freed from their escape pods, sending them out in ones and twos that were dispatched easily enough. Even now, any who wandered close to the group relaxing on the field of Avengers Stadium were taken out by Taskmaster and Red Hulk, who merely added the decapitated heads of the fallen to their growing supply of Chitauriballs.

 _"Home run,"_ Taskmaster called out in his gruff voice, and every one stopped what they were doing to shield their eyes against the sun and watch a Chitauri head sail through the air. Near the end of the field, playing with Cosmo the Spacedog and pretending he wasn't enjoying it, Loki obligingly waved a hand and the scoreboard added another point for the red giant as the head soared right over the walls of the Academy.

"Rulk!" Pepper screeched, standing up. Though she was plenty intimidating without, she cut an imposing figure in her new Rescue armor.

"Don't call me Rulk!"

The director's assistant ignored him, pointing an accusing (and armored) finger _that would not be ignored_. "You know what the Mayor said: no more alien heads in the street! It's disturbing the tourists!" 

"These 'tourists' sound weak and pathetic. On my planet such a display would be cheered on in front of thousands," Drax declared, and then, seemingly making up his mind, stood. "I am going to play. Take many pictures, Khan. This 'In-sta-gram' of yours _will_ know my name."

"You got it, Big Green!" Kamala chirped, stretching one arm far in the sky, phone in hand, ready to snap away. 

Far enough away to be shielded from the group's cheeriness but not so far that they wouldn't know it when she started talking about them, Amora sat with Baron Zemo and scoffed at the display. "Look at these fools. Laughing. Joking. _Getting along_." She grabbed a fistful of StarkTurf in her hand and with one green burst of light, incinerated it. "I hate it."

Zemo grunted his agreement.

"It's so much more fun when they argue. Mortals always squabble with such vigor over such trifles," the Enchantress said with disdain, as if she didn't try to curse Janet not three days ago for daring to tell Amora that she'd put her eyeliner on crooked. "Even the Captain and Iron Man are getting along now! Did you see the portraits that Stark made for him for Class President? _'Stand hand in hand with the man with a plan!'_  Ugh. Spare me. If anyone but Anthony tried to hold the Captain's hand they'd probably find themselves face to face with a repulsor."

Zemo chuckled.

"You know the Captain even stopped me from hypnotizing Anthony? Said it was 'bad for his brain' and then got angry with me when I told him that if Stark didn't want to be hypnotized, maybe he shouldn't have such a weak mind! The audacity of that man. I'm only trying to help!"

Zemo patted her shoulder with a sympathetic hand and the Enchantress sighed.

"What _ever_. It can't last for long; it never did before. Those two can't bear to be wrong. They'll find something else to fight about and their sidekicks will pick sides and everything will be wonderful again."

"Civil War," Zemo whispered ominously, and Amora promptly zapped him.

"Stop saying that! Nobody knows what that means, you idiot!"

While the two pseudo-villains set to trading blows, one of the subjects of their ire was approaching the rest of the group, sweaty and panting and bleeding from a gash on his cheek. Walking beside him was Nebula, her head plate a little dented but otherwise unmarked. "Cap!" Jan cried with dismay, rising from her seat beside Groot (she was trying to help him learn Text-to-Speech so they didn't have to guess what _'I am Groot'_ meant anymore since Rocket's translations had so far proven unreliable but, to no one's surprise, all he learned to type so far was _'I am Groot'_ ) and producing a first aid kit out of one of the many pockets on her brand-new space suit. Being the best friend of a mad teenage genius who frequently let Dr. Pym electrocute him _for science!_ had trained her well in preparedness. She pulled a protesting Steve down to sit and started fussing over him, taking a moment to glare up at Nebula. "What did you do to him?"

"We were sparring, Jan," Steve told her soothingly. "I wanted to test my skills against a dual-wielder and Nebula is aces with those swords of hers."

Nebula sniffed, chin tilting up arrogantly. "Your Rogers is an acceptable warrior." From what they knew of Nebula this was high praise, and she sneered at the admiring and proud gazes they bestowed upon their Captain. "His footwork is sloppy," she added, and then flounced away.

"If you're going to kill Chitauri bring back the heads," Gamora called after her sister. "Drax keeps hitting them into the street, we're running out!" At this, Pepper got to her feet, let the faceplate of her Rescue armor drop, and marched over to the players. Those left behind winced as they heard her begin to lecture; having each of them been on the receiving end of Pepper's wrath they sympathized greatly. Fortunately for them, Tony Stark seemed to bear the brunt of them; unfortunately for Pepper Potts, he seemed to be largely immune.

_("He built a whole new water collection system just so he could put it into this suit, **just so** I could help him put out his fires!"_

_"Well, why don't you just spray **him** with it?"_

_"I tried! Do you know what he said? 'Pep, if you wanted to start a wet t-shirt contest, all you had to do was ask!'")_

"It's already healing," Jan declared huffily, contenting herself with wiping away the blood. "I am so jealous. I had to wax my legs last night, Steve, do you know how handy a healing factor would been then?"

"I...hope to never find out," Steve said, honest and just a little bit concerned.

"Good answer," Natasha told him. "Now that you're here, Rogers, we need to start talking strategy. Gamora says Ronan won't stay complacent for long."

Steve nodded, putting on his 'Captain face' as Sam liked to call it. Then he looked around. "Wait. Where's Tony? I don't want to get started without him."

"I didn't know you needed Stark to hold your hand," Gamora remarked, eyebrow raising high. It climbed impossibly higher when a faint blush stole across Steve's cheeks, but the Star-Spangled College Student merely squared his jaw and met her gaze.

"Tony's a valued teammate and a technology expert. It only makes sense to wait for his input."

"Ah. The hand-holding is mutual, then. Got it," Gamora said, raising her hands in peace when Steve opened his mouth again. "Last I saw he was with Rocket and Quill at the _Milano_ , getting it flight-ready again. The one-eyed man wants us to go to the Conservatory soon and see if anything's left."

"I'll get him!" Jan said. They waited for her to shrink and fly off but she merely pressed a button on a panel on the front of her suit. "Iron Man, this is Wasp. We're having a pow-wow and you're invited so get over here, Mister!"

There was a crackle of static and then: _"Jan? Why is there a communicator in my armor?"_

"Because I put it there, silly!"

_"... **when**?!"_

"Oh, about the same time you were putting trackers in all my costumes."

"You two are weird," Sam told her. "Like, really weird."

Jan turned her nose up at him. "I'm sorry Steve won't let you sneak tech into his clothes, Sam, but there's no reason to be jealous of me and Tony." Confused and feeling just a bit judged, Sam turned a pleading eye towards Steve, who fixed with a flat stare and mouthed 'no.'

 _"But I just made this armor!"_ Tony exclaimed over the line, and every one listening perked up. Getting to see new StarkTech was almost worth having to sit through Tony bragging about it.

"Then you should come show it off to us!" Jan said cheerily. "Steve's dying to see it!"

And that may well have been true, but it did not stop Steve from throwing a betrayed look Jan's way. Over the comm, now curiously breathless, Tony said _"Oh. I - I'll be right there."_

And surely enough not three seconds later, a tiny reddish-gold dot appeared in the sky, headed their way, flanked on either side by smaller, darker blots that soon revealed themselves to be Peter Quill and Rocket Raccoon as the three got closer. Moments later, Rocket and Peter had dropped to the ground and, already well accustomed to Stark theatrics, moved out of the way so Tony could do his customary three-point landing.

The new suit was beautiful, no doubt about it, cast in a much brighter red and gold than normally used in the suits and burnished to a glimmering sheen. Its shoulders were spiked and wide, the plating in the arms and thighs casting an intimidating figure. Iron Man raised his head, revealing a cold, golden stare that would strike fear into the hearts of his foes. The suit practically thrummed with power.

And then the faceplate split apart, revealing Tony's shining, slightly goofy grin and grease-covered face as he stood up and waved his arms like an overgrown Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robot. "So. Tell me how great I look."

The building sense of awe in the face of an engineering masterpiece instantly deflated, and upon further inspection, his friends could see that the suit was also more than a little quirky, with odd clawed feet, a strangely-shaped faceplate that reminded more than one of a hockey mask, and a bright, ostentatious starburst design around the arc reactor.

"I've really outdone myself this time!" Tony declared, smiling with no small amount of smugness. A cough came from beside him, and the smile went a little sheepish. "Oh, and RocketandQuillhelpedtoo."

"You look fabulous, Tony," Jan told him, making a space between herself and Steve and waving the three over. "How much stronger is this one than the old one?"

"Oh, tons. Almost eight percent if my math is right, and it always is. Higher firepower, a more concentrated beam-"

"You're welcome," Rocket grumbled, climbing up on Groot's shoulders. He liked to feel tall. 

"-greater thrust and manueverability. Also, drumroll please - thank you, Kamala - fully articulated! No more Tin Man routines for me!"

"Shame," Sam mourned. A good chunk of his Twitter followers came from his multiple tweets chronicling Iron Man's ongoing struggle with flexibility.

"That sounds great, Tony," Steve said, overly loud as Tony shot a glare at the Falcon. "You've been working hard and it shows. The Chitauri won't know what hit 'em."

Tony practically beamed at the praise, his face lighting up brighter than the repulsor node in his chest. "That's the idea, Cap. I'll be faster, stronger, and all the other Daft Punk adjectives, rolled into one lean, mean, alien-fighting machine. You guys can sit back, relax, and drink virgin mojitos by the wave pool - I've got this totally handled."

Gamora snorted derisively. "Please. Iron Man alone won't stop the Chitauri and Ronan will pound you into pretty red-and-gold smears before your first attack. We need to come up with a plan for Ronan's next attack."

"You said I'm pretty," Tony pointed out, half-cocky, half-terrified. Gamora, far too used to Starlord to ever be thrown off guard by Tony Stark, merely rolled her eyes.

The Captain tore his gaze from Tony's - he seemed to have a perplexing preoccupation with the other boy's eyes, having not once looked away since the faceplate came up - and nodded, getting serious. "Right. You know him better than we do, Guardians. What's your suggestion?"

Between the Avengers and the Guardians, a rough plan was sketched out for the next wave of the attack, pairing fliers with ground fighters to launch pronged attacks against the increased number of Chitauri fighters they expected and sending in a team to rescue Yondu, Quill's captured mentor, in hopes that the Ravagers would come to the Academy's aid once their leader was free. Meanwhile, Rocket and Groot planned to visit the Conservatory to search for survivor's from Ronan's attack as soon as the _Milano_ was patched up.

"Good talk, guys, not sure why we couldn't have done that over communicators," Rocket grumbled, tugging on a twig jabbing into his shoulder. "C'mon, Groot, you need to stretch your legs. You're practically planting roots here, what have you been doing all day?" With that, the big tree stood, rodent still firmly fixed to his shoulders, and headed off in the direction of the _Milano_. The meeting seemed to be over. Many of the students drifted off, whether to get to class, go on patrol, or take a nap at the dorms. The conversation went back to other, more pleasant topics.

"So," Steve said, turning towards Tony. "Want to head to the arena and spar? Show off what that new suit can do?"

"I don't know, Cap, I'm not sure I want to end the Intergalatic Armor's first day by beating up an old man," Tony replied cheekily. 

"Intergalactic, huh? Pretty fancy name for a tin can."

"I'm sorry, hold on, is  _Captain America_ making fun of somebody else's name?" 

They grinned at each other, unaware of their friends all around them breathing sighs of relief. After the blowup - and make up - over Independence Day, the two Avengers' relationship had much improved, although there were still several days where they rubbed each other the wrong way. Steve still got on Tony's case for not taking things seriously enough and relying on his tech and Tony still grew frustrated when Cap seemed stuck in the past or too set in his ways. Things were still touch and go, but for the most part, they were good, great, even. One could even go so far as to call them friends.

"Seriously, Tony," Cap said, placing a hand on Iron Man's shoulder. Tony was a sucker for that move and Steve exploited it relentlessly. "I know you're always after the latest and greatest but you've really raised the bar - this armor is impressive."

 _Yeah_ , Natasha thought. _Things are going well_.

"Yeah?" Tony asked, and was that shyness in his voice? "You really think it's cool? 'Cause sometimes when I show you my tech you just do that thing where you nod along and smile like you're dying inside."

"I do not! The things you create are amazing, Tony, I always like hearing you talk about them. The suit is-" His eyes ran up and down Tony's form. "The suit is great. Can't wait to see you put it through its paces."

 _Almost too well_ , Natasha mused.

"Oh," Tony said, a flush coming and going across his cheeks like the afternoon breeze. "Oh," he said again, suddenly drawing himself up and looking away. Ready to bluster. "You think this is impressive, you should see what I've got cooking in my workshop, Cap. The Guardians, the Chitauri, Knowhere coming down, all that tech! They're doing stuff up there we haven't even dreamed of, Cap, but I'm gonna make it a reality, and then I'm gonna make it better."

Steve smiled fondly even as a tiny furrow appeared between his brows. "You don't have to show up the entire galaxy, Tony. I think what you're doing now is more than enough."

 _Almost like_ , Natasha pondered, _the calm before the storm_.

Tony's expression turned a little pensive. Nervous, one might even call it.

"Well, that's the thing. We can't settle for _enough_ , Cap," he said. His voice was getting more high-pitched, words spilling over themselves as he leaned into Cap's personal space. "We have to do more. We have to look forward. You know Rocket's gun has a thermal paste that one dab could keep my armors maintenance-free for ten years? And - and Nebula's swords? Can cut through adamantium! And Quill told me the Ravagers suits that move like leather but can stop most physical ballistics. Even my armor is weak to concentrated gunfire, not to mention the suits you guys wear - oh! They have explosives that can take out entire spaceships that would fit into the palm of my hand. Imagine having that the next time Leader tries to blow up Avengers Hall!"

"Imagine having that fall into the wrong hands," Steve muttered, but Tony wasn't paying attention, putting his palm into the air and launching a projection hologram of his own body.

"And just look at this. So, Quill's been telling me about a planet of symbiote lifeforms that can bond with anyone and make them ten times stronger-"

"Tony, you're _not_ bonding with an alien-"

"Of course not, that would be stupid. Freaking _awesome_ , but stupid. But! The process could be replicated, with science!" Tony exclaimed. "Nanites, Steve! Picture this: I'm walking along, minding my own business when out of nowhere - BAM! An AIM agent with a giant gun. _'Ha ha, Iron Man. I've caught you armorless. Now you're mine!'_ Little does he know-" In the hologram a swarm of little dots went into Tony's body. "I've always got the armor. In my bones! A symbiotic relationship between man and machine - that's the future, right there, and _they've already got it_."

Steve watched, narrow-eyed, as Hologram-Tony was overtaken by the dots. "What are those?" he asked quietly, pointing towards holes marked on Holo-Tony's frame.

"Ports!" Tony told him joyfully. "For the nanites to enter and exit my body." Steve went green, then white, his eyes snapping to Tony's.

"Tony..." Jan said, cautiously. The remaining Guardians looked around, puzzled at the apprehensive looks growing on the Avengers' faces.

"Right, right, I'm getting off track. This is just a prototype." Tony dismissed the hologram. "If we want to stay ahead, we've got to think practical, too. So, try this on for size instead: Rocket told me about these chips they have on Centauri II. You install them right into the brain, turns your whole system into a computer. You can interface with tech instantly. I could build something like that, no problem - I'm actually a little embarrassed I didn't come up with it myself, but that's exactly what I'm talking about, Steve. Thinking forward! Imagine what I could do with that. I'd have powers our enemies couldn't even begin to understand!"

Steve straightened, going stiff, and a cold breeze seemed to shiver down everyone's spine. Tony was still smiling, as cheerfully manic as he ever was, but those words...they didn't sound right from his mouth. He didn't sound like himself anymore as he babbled on.

"Did you see the guns attached to the Dark Aster?  _Lasers._ If we could equip those to our satellites with an early detection system, something like this wouldn't have even happened. And the Chitauri weapons, adapted to ours? _Alien-tech Widows Bites_ , Natasha! AIM and those other guys wouldn't know what hit them. The Avengers could actually put the bad guys away for once instead of just beating them back until the next attack."

"And when are you going to stop?" Steve asked, voice carefully even and dangerously quiet. It would completely distract anyone from noticing his shaking hands. "When is enough going to be enough?"

Tony's smiled dropped a little, going a bit desperate at the edges. "I just told you. Enough _isn't_ enough. Our enemies are only going to get stronger. When the Chitauri got here, that first day, don't you remember? Their weapons punched straight through the first layer of my armor-"

"So you turn to your teammates, you depend on them to help you fight back, you don't think turning yourself _into a damned computer!_ " Steve said, nearly shouting by the end of it. Tony reared back a little, looking confused. "And everything else, as well - you're talking about taking the fight to the villains, but that's not what we do, Tony. That's not our job, we're here to protect people."

"This would be protecting people - us!" Tony protested. "Are we supposed to play catch-up for the rest of our lives, hoping against hope that this time won't be the one they get lucky and take one of us out?"

"No. We defeat the threats when they come, and we do it together. We don't play God and we don't go looking for fights to prove how superior we are. How long would it be before you turned those satellites on your enemies on Earth? How long before you started sending out the Legion to patrol the population instead of just respond to threats?"

"Wha - what are you talking about, how is that even relevant?" Tony cried, climbing to his feet. "Why are you so mad at me? I thought we were past this. The Iron Legion helps us-"

Steve had already leapt up before Tony had straightened to his full height. "Because it's all the same thing! It's always the same thing with you, Tony: when things get too hard you immediately fall back on your tech to solve your problems instead of fighting it out or, God forbid, ask someone for help."

"No, I - I  _am_ my tech. Where do you think the armor comes from, or Sam's wings, or Natasha's Bites, or those robots that you're more than happy to use for target practice when it suits you? And you - you were just telling me how amazing this suit is. Well, _I_ built it, just like I build everything else. This is what I can do; this is how I can fight. We can't all be you!"

"Oh, no," Jan muttered, because Tony's voice had gained a foreboding warble.

"What is going on?" Gamora murmured to Natasha, who had placed her head in her hands a long while ago. 

"No one's asking you to be me, I'm just asking for you to not let your colossal ego get yourself or somebody else killed because you decided you'd rather play around with experimental tech. You were talking about _bombs_ just now, Tony, about - _upgrading_ yourself like you're not a human being."

Tony bristled. "That's rich coming from the guy who volunteered for an experimental serum on the off chance it might make him a super soldier."

"I was in a war," Steve said coldly, and on the ground, Sam started to rise. This was getting into dangerous territory. "We were desperate. It isn't the same at all."

"Because people were _dying_. Excuse me for trying to stop it before it gets that bad." Tony's face was red, his hands clenched tight. "And for your information, Captain, I _don't_ play around. I never have, not when it comes to us. But I can't just sit idly by, either, and let bad things happen that I know I could have stopped if I had just tried harder. Iron Man has to be ahead of the curve, every time, because if I fall behind people could get hurt."

"Because it's all about you. It's probably 'for our own good,' too, right, that's a platitude you haven't thrown out yet. Or maybe 'the ends justify the means,' that's always a good one." Steve said tightly. His lips were pressed so tightly together they were growing white, fists clenched at his side and for the first time those in audience realized that Steve was _scared_. Of Tony or for Tony, they couldn't be sure. " _No_ , I don't want you to sit idly by. You've built tech that's saved our lives. But the first place you went to today, at the first sign of adversity...you looked at this tech and all you see is the blueprint for a better weapon. Tony, I thought you wanted to build a better _future_."

"I do," Tony cried, looking more and more upset. "But do you think the future just falls into your lap? You think the rest of us can be like you and sleep our way into it?"

"Tony-" Jan said, getting to her feet as Steve took a threatening step towards the armored teen.

"I want to build a future for all of us, and that means we have to live to see it!" Tony said. He took a deep gasping breath and visibly tried to calm down. "I'm not talking about anything bad. I just want us to be stronger. You - you're blowing this way out of proportion, Steve -"

Steve scoffed, but it was all wrong, panicked and a little watery. "Tony, do you even _hear_ yourself? Weaponized satellites, miniature bombs, making the armor _a part of you_? Man and machine - You are not the suit, Tony; you're so much more than that and you don't even see it. You're too scared to be anything else."

"Who's scared?" Tony shouted, taking a step forward.

 _"Okay!"_ Jan was up, taking Tony's arm, ready to steer him away. "Tones, why don't we go run some drills at the Range? Rhodey's on patrol right now but I'm sure he'd love to shoot a few rounds with you. He's still trying to beat your high score." 

"Yeah," he said, face going very carefully and deliberately blank. "Yeah, I'm done." He turned, faceplate snapping shut, and burst into the air, flying away.

Jan turned to Steve, staring down at his shaking fist. "How could he even suggest..." he choked out.

"Steve," she began, but couldn't think of anything more to say.

Natasha stood, dusting off non-existent dirt from her pants and walking towards them. "We'll handle patrol tonight, Cap. You take a break."

"No," Steve said, swinging his shield off his back. "Right now I could really do with a good fight." With that he stomped off in the opposite direction from where Tony had flown. The girls watched him walk away silently.

Until: "I hate them both," Natasha remarked. Jan held out her hand for a high-five that Natasha gave instantly. "My patrol's not for two more hours, you want to hit up the new club or chase after Tony?"

"Oh, he's gone to find Rhodey. They're going to blast apart some aliens and bitch. He'll find me later. In fact, between them and Steve, I think the rest of us can take a break from patrolling tonight. So," Jan turned to the group left behind. "Drinks on me at Club Galaxy!"

A ragged cheer rose up and they all stood to follow the two girls to the new venue, still incomplete but rocking a fully operational bar, in the middle of campus. Only two figures remained.

"What did I tell you?" Amora said smugly. Beside her, Baron Zemo nodded solemnly.

"Civil War."

_"Ugh."_

A flash of green, and he was sent flying once more.

* * *

With an inhuman cry the Chitauri crumpled to the ground under the weight of his shield. Steve snarled, whirling on his buddy but it screeched and ran off into the bushes. The sounds of the short battle faded, and he was left in the quiet.

He shouldn't have lost his temper.

He knew, even as he was yelling at Tony, that Tony had just gotten excited like he always did, that half of everything that came out of his mouth was just nonsense, even to Tony himself. Stark talked, everyone knew that. But Steve knew how much Tony just _needed to_ sometimes, to get out everything that was buzzing around in his head. He should have kept calm and explained to Tony how literally everything he was suggesting would end up backfiring on them.

But then Tony showed him that hologram, then Tony started talking about plugging alien chips into his brain. Upgrading himself like he did everything else. Why have Avengers when you could have a robot fighting force to replace them? Why train when you fought in a metal suit? Why protect civilians when you could have Big Brother attack your foes before they even struck - even existed? Why settle for humanity when you could have 'powers they wouldn't understand'?

That was Tony's vision of the future. Progress, at the sacrifice of everything else, and all controlled by Tony Stark.

Lately he had seen more and more glimpses of the good man under Stark's arrogance and flashiness. The warmth and feeling in those eyes was genuine, he knew it. The bravery Tony fought with, the pride he took in his place amongst the Avengers - it was all real and true, and then somewhere along the way it got twisted, turning Tony aloof and cocky and careless. Steve wanted nothing more than to untwist him, to prove to him that he didn't have to be any of that. What he was underneath - whatever he was underneath - that was more than enough.

_Enough isn't enough._

Steve shouldn't have lost his temper. God, he missed Bucky at times like this. Sam was great, but nobody had been able to talk Steve off a ledge like Buck. He stomped off in the direction of the Time Fog; the campus had mostly cleared out of Chitauri for the night and everyone was far away, enjoying a night at the new club that had opened near the Forge. He was alone.

What a turn-around, he thought, his mind still whirling with the fight from earlier. Wasn't Tony the one who had once begged him to let the Avengers in and realize he wasn't alone? He should have known Tony would be terrible at taking his own advice. There was just - there was no need for it! Steve, Jan, the others, they would always be there to fight by his side. Sometimes Tony acted like the Avengers were just there to be his test subjects for his latest and greatest creation.

Steve knew that wasn't fair, he knew how much Tony did for them, but he couldn't help the old insecurities from welling up.  _Enough isn't enough._ Tony didn't think they were enough. After all, what could possibly compare to the things he could do? Or maybe Tony was afraid that if he admitted how much he needed the Avengers then that would mean he had somehow fallen short.  That he had failed.

God, he was infuriating and Steve hated him and Steve already felt horribly guilty that he had yelled at him like that. He'd make it up to him - he'd have to. Nine times out of ten it was Steve that had to make the first move to reconcile after their fights. Tony was either too proud or too scared to say sorry first, Steve hadn't figured out which. Maybe it was both.

But that would have to wait until the angered inside him had boiled up and over. Until he no longer felt the urge to fondly throttle Tony. Until he was sure he wouldn't yell at him again the first time he saw his stupid smirk and big brown eyes that were bound to be full of hurt that Tony would never admit to.

Unfortunately for Steve, the universe didn't feel like cooperating with that plan.

He rounded the corner, heading towards Club A to maybe shoot a few rounds of pool and lose a staring contest with the robot bartender when the Time Fog rippled. There was no better word for it. A sound began to emanate from its depths, sounding uncannily like wheels of a train racing along a track. Steve rushed forward, shield raised, but just as soon as it had begun, it faded. The night was quiet.

Steve sighed and wondered if it was even worth it to include Time Fog shenanigans in his After Action reports anymore and, after watching a few moments more to make sure nothing else happened, turned back to his original destination.

And nearly tripped over the man lying in his path.

The man groaned when Steve's shin came in contact with his side, rolling over with a hand thrown across his face. "Ah. No need for violence, Danvers. Ain't that drunk today, just real tired mostly. Mostly. Had a little. No need to glare, darlin', consider my lesson well learned. I think that bartender put something in my drink." Steve watched, open-mouthed, as the man just rambled on. "That's a crime, Danvers. Man's drink should be sacred. Night in lockup, that'll fix him up right. We should tell the Sheriff. Crime on his watch! He'd never stand for it."

The man went quiet, and for the first time Steve took in his appearance. Old-fashioned, pants high and rough-spun and a shirt that looked like it had once been a great friend of starch but was now grimy with grease. An unbuttoned black silk vest that had seen better days. Creased, sturdy boots with beaten laces. An empty holster on one hip and an empty flash on the other. A supple leather tool-belt. And a soft-looking, drooping moustache on the visible half of the man's tan face. He looked like he'd fallen out of an old Western serial and Steve dimly hoped that they weren't dealing with an invasion of cowboys on top of the aliens.

Then the man dropped his hand from his face, big bleary familiar brown eyes locking on Steve's, and Steve knew that was not what he was dealing with at all.

Another Tony Stark had come to haunt him.

"Danvers," the Tony croaked. "I was right. Arrest that bartender. I've been poisoned."

"Tony," Steve breathed. And this one looked even more similar to his own then the older, bitter Tony he'd met last month did, if not for the impossible sadness was ingrained into his skin in the lines around his mouth and eyes. The older Tony, the one who had fought his own Steve, had had those too. (Steve had to wonder now: was his Tony the outlier then? Was the multiverse populated by sad-eyed Tonys who looked at Steve like he was the end of the world, except for his? What did that say about the two of them?)

Those big eyes widened even further when Steve spoke, and a grin bloomed across his face, deliriously happy and nothing Steve had ever seen his Tony direct at anybody who wasn't Jan. "Never mind. Whatever he put in there, keep it coming. I quite like this state of bein'." He reached up, fingers grasping. _"Steve."_

Steve grabbed on tight, helping Tony up. There was alcohol on the man's breath and he couldn't seem to keep his feet under him so Steve wrapped an arm under his shoulders and walked him along.

"Just like old times, right, Steve," Stark asked. His eyes were bright, practically manic as he leaned in close. "Look at you. That same old hangdog expression, too. You gonna lock me up in the cell tonight? Let me serenade you? I know it's your favorite." A truly outrageous eyebrow waggle and then Stark burst into song. _"Oh, Danny boy..."_

Steve _did_ like that song but he clapped a hand over his mouth nonetheless. "Sorry," he muttered. "But we're under attack right now and I've had my fill of aliens tonight."

He got Stark inside Club A and released him and his cacophonous laughter as the man doubled over. "A-li-ens. You always had a queer sense of humor, Sheriff." He reached up, his fingers ghosting a clumsy path along Steve's cheek. "I miss you," he breathed, and then it was like he had never smiled at all.

Steve had seen his Tony drunk once or twice, usually only at the infrequent parties the Academy held; it wasn't a sight he enjoyed. For one, it was illegal as Tony was underage; for another, Tony became incredibly maudlin and clingy and Steve was not well-equipped to deal with that. Most importantly, though, drunk people reminded him of his father, and the reminder was not pleasant. He didn't begrudge people their fun, he simply did not want to be around it.

Yes, the universe - two universes, in fact - really had it out for him tonight.

"I'm right here," he told the Tony in front of him, taking him by the shoulders and leading him to the bar. "A water," he told the robot on duty, and that blank-eyed head bobbed obediently before jumping to fill a glass.

"You're a strange one," Stark told the robot, blinking slowly at him as if his eyes were playing tricks on him. "Where do you hail from, friend?"

"Your lab," Steve grumbled, sitting him down in a stool before collapsing heavily onto the one beside him. He rubbed his fingers in slow circles between his brows, pushing out with every pass until his forefinger and thumb were dug into his temples. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tony place his dizzy head on one palm and settle in to stare at him, glassy eyed and smiling. "What?"

"I missed you," Stark repeated. "You look - so young. And that hair. What have you been doing with yourself, Sheriff?"

"I'm not a Sheriff," Steve snapped. "I'm a Captain. Captain Steve Rogers." He felt a little guilty using such a sharp tone with a lost and confused Tony, but the other man didn't even blink. If anything, his delight only grew.

"Of course you are. Had to dream up something grand for you, didn't I? Although," he frowned, reached out again, but this time his hand never quite touched Steve's face. The skin burned, regardless. "I'd've thought I'd have dreamt you happier." The robo-barkeep placed the water down in front of Tony and he obediently took a few sips.

 _Save him from Tony Stark and his dreams,_ Steve thought unkindly, and then immediately banished the thought. It didn't matter that he was angry. This man - this Tony - needed his help.

Stark set the glass down, fingering the rim, and then turned to him, eyes suddenly very wet. "Are you happy?" he asked, leaning close. "You know I don't believe in God, Sheriff. I don't - I don't know where you went. But I know I'm not going to the same place. Tell me now, while we've got the chance."

"Tony-"

On a dime, he turned again, smiling wide. "Ah, never mind. Let me lie to myself, Rogers, you know how good I am at that. Just look at you. As straight and true and surly as ever. You're a good man. The best. I'm sorry I never told you that."

He was so damn happy to see Steve. Had his Tony ever smiled at him like that? Had he ever called Steve a good man? Right about now, Steve's Tony was probably sitting in his Tower, cursing his name as he tinkered with his next terrifying creation. Widening the gap between them just that little bit more. Suddenly, all Steve wanted was for this Tony to stop talking like this, stop looking at him like this.

"You're not dreaming," he said bluntly. 

Stark frowned. "But I - well, I have to be, don't I? It's the only thing that rightly makes sense, Sheriff. I've had these dreams before, you know, after you went and left me. This is the only way I can reach you now." He leaned in close, so sweetly sad. 

"This is an alternate reality that you've fallen into. This isn't your world."

Stark didn't seem to hear him. He reached out an fiddled with the collar of Steve's jacket, laying it flat just so. "The best man I ever knew. I wish you were here. I wish you were _here_. You'd make it all better again, and I could get it right this time. I wouldn't let you die this time."

The blood seemed to freeze in Steve's veins as Tony's words sunk in. 

"I built me a coffin," Tony whispered. "Big, metal. Can take a bullet, though not much more; all it had to take was yours. I'd crawl in it in a second if it'd bring you back."

Steve opened and closed his mouth before the words could make it out of his throat, and even then they came out in a bewildering tumble. "Your Steve Rogers _died?_ "

Tony blinked up at him blearily, his gaze suddenly focusing on Steve's face. For the first time the raw intelligence that Steve had seen in the older Tony, that he saw everyday in his own Tony, surfaced in those big brown eyes. "Don't you remember?" he asked, even as he pulled away. 

"This isn't your world," Steve repeated. He pushed the water glass closer and Tony took a few more sips, watching him all the while. "It's a different universe. You somehow got lost in the Time Fog, but it will take you back."

"And if I don't want to go?" Tony asked under his breath, but Steve caught in nonetheless.

"You have to. You're Tony Stark; people need you."

"Me? The drunken blacksmith, the war-monger? They need _you_ ," Tony corrected. "And I let you die."

Steve remained silent, desperately trying to find the words again, while Tony looked around, his eyes finally coming to rest on the robot barkeeper. "Time Fog. _Time Fog._ That sounds like something out of Jules Verne novel. Is this the future?" 

"It could be," Steve answered. 

"Not my future, though. You don't...come back." The last part was barely a whisper.

Steve took a deep breath, unprepared for the look in Tony's eyes and how uncomfortable it was to be on the other side of mourning. Nobody had ever missed Steve before; nobody had gotten the chance. "No. I'm a - well, I'm a different version of your Steve Rogers. I have a Tony Stark with me, too."

A long pause and then Tony's mouth went tight, his brows drawing tight and low. "Another Tony Stark. Jesus. What's he like?"

Steve's mouth fought a battle between a grin and a grimace. He wasn't sure which was winning. " _Smart._ He's an inventor. He's got more money than most countries, I think. He's younger than you - younger than me but he's already done so much. He's very...bright."

"Bright?" 

"You know. Flashy and - and impossible," Steve ducked his head, feeling the anger stir back up. "He's frustrating as hell."

Stark chuckled, a bit morosely. "That sounds familiar. What's he done?"

"How do you know it was you?" Steve asked, frowning. Stark gave a one-shouldered shrug and a corner of his mouth tilted up in a bitter smile.

"Because it's me. I always let you down."

Steve stared at him, the lines on his face, the slump of his shoulders. He looked so defeated, and it was a look he wore comfortably. Familiar. "What happened to you?" he whispered.

"Well. I made weapons for the war. The Civil War," Stark began after a very long pause, shoulders hunching even further. "I blew boys to bits, and I got richer and richer. I didn't really care. Better a cannon made by me then a Hammer defect that would blow up in your face. I was proud of those weapons, do you know. They were so efficient. _Excellent_ craftsmanship. Then the day came that I had to face them head on and I finally saw the truth of it. All those bodies...you couldn't even recognize some of those boys. It was too far. So I ran, and then I kept running. Nearly died on some train tracks until a kindly sheriff came and rescued me. And I thought 'Stark, this here's the man you always wished you could be.' I'd-a followed you into the dust, Rogers."

"I would have been honored by that," Steve said honestly. The stare that got was incredulous and Tony made a noise that blurred the line between sob and chuckle.

"The things I saw, they were fit to drown me, so I guess I tried to beat them to it. I got drunk every night. I was your constant disappointment, Rogers; I didn't want to be. And then Fisk and his boys came with their guns and you stood in the street and called out for us _brave Timely folk_ to take up arms and drive the bastards out. Take a stand. That's all you wanted. All I had to do was stand beside you.

Tony swallowed, hand clenched white-knuckled around his glass. "But I stayed still. While they shot you in the street like you were an animal I just laid there. I was probably drunk again. And I would've - I always think that I find the limit. Too far, I say, and I back off and give myself a good old pat on the back for my restraint. But I wished for 'em then, all my pretty weapons. If I'd-a had them - well, I still probably would have been a coward, but maybe you could've used them and saved us like you wanted. You would've known how. You would've done it right."

"Or maybe it could have all gone even worse," Steve reasoned. "I'd rather have you building something new then have you ever build another weapon. I'd _fight_ for that, and I bet so would he. That's why he took a stand, Tony."

Stark looked at him, gaze wondrous. "That's you all over, Sheriff. I bet your Tony doesn't deserve you either. You'd best be careful around him."

"He's my friend," Steve snapped. "You don't even _know_ him."

"No. But you're like my Steve. It could stand to reason that I'm like your Tony. And I know me. I know what's in my blood." Tony's stare went dark and unfocused, the man before Steve drifting somewhere unpleasant. "I'm always too late. Always content to let it burn until I'm the one scorched. He'll let you down. He already has, hasn't he?"

"No!" Steve burst out. "He's a hero, a good man that I believe can be great. Tony just...gets...carried away sometimes. Like the whole world was broken until he came along to fix it and he's the only one who can do it. It - it makes me so angry! He'd give up everything good about himself just to be that much smarter or faster when he _doesn't need to_. No one's asking for perfection, and no one minds if he's weak sometimes. He has a team to help him! He never has to go that far. And then he has the nerve to tell me he's doing it to protect me. I would _never_ want you to destroy yourself like that, why can't you understand that?"

His last word hung in the air, an angry echo drowned out by Steve's harsh breathing. He didn't even know who he was yelling at. Tony Stark, he thought, always so good at getting under his skin no matter what the dimension.

Stark was watching him carefully, sitting straighter in his stool then he had all evening, his eyes sad and knowing. Finally, he spoke. "If I had destroyed myself but kept you safe doing it, I would have died a man proud," Stark said quietly. "I had the power to help you, and I didn't. If I had acted, been smarter or faster, if I had _gone too far_ , you'd still be alive, and it would be worth it. I wanted to run and hide, Sheriff. Mend horseshoes and tools for the rest of my life and drink away the coin it got me and sing to you when you locked me up for the night. That would've been a good life, more than I deserved. But it wasn't enough. And I should have known better. It's all my fault."

"No," Steve protested, almost on auto-pilot. Stark's words were bouncing around in his head. "You didn't know what was going to happen. You didn't pull the trigger. You're not the one who killed him."

"I only stood by and watched," Stark said sadly. "You know I was working on a suit? Made it out of metal, like a Knight of the Round Table. It can stop a bullet or two. It could've stopped yours. All those days I was mopin' and drinkin', I could have been building. It would have been done before Fisk ever came for us, if I had just done better. Don't you understand, Sheriff?"

"Tony, you're just a man," Steve told him. "A brilliant one, but even you can't see the future. All you can do is leave your time in a better place then when you arrived. You can still do that. He gave you time; don't waste it on guilt."

Stark stared down at his glass of water, watching the ripples that formed on the surface, a product of his shaking hand, and Steve stared at him. Tony - his Tony - never seemed to struggle with the weight of the world, not like this. In fact, he seemed to relish it. Every impossible thing Steve could think of, Tony had already built it and upgraded it - twice. Anything that could be wanted, Tony already had it. He built armored suits and robots and guns and ships in his spare time, he ran a billion dollar company, he went on press tours and to expos and screamed _look at me, look at me_  with just a smile and everyone obeyed, and it never seemed to be enough. Tony always had to do more, make more, be more.

He'd thought that Tony was spoiled, albeit with a unhealthily large dose of trauma. Thought that, given a few years and the stability of the Avengers, Tony would grow out of it. He'd never thought Tony's motivation came from something like this.

He _hoped_ his Tony didn't think anything like this. Because, selfishly, that meant that all this time Tony had been buckling under the weight of the world, and Steve had never seen.

"Right," Stark said, suddenly jerking Steve back to the present. His gaze was still fixed on the water, but sometime while Steve had been thinking, the surface had gone smooth. Stark's hands had stopped shaking. The man shot him a smile, the lazy curl at odds with the sudden sharpness in his eyes. "You always were pretty good at speeches, Sheriff. You're right, like usual. No time for mopin' around. I've got things to do - business to see to. Folks to protect." He stood, reaching into his pocket and placing an old, worn coin on the countertop in what looked like a very practiced motion, and made for the door. "I've got to get back. Fisk and his boys are still lurking around town. Don't suppose you mind pointing me in the right direction?"

Steve scurried to follow him out into the night. "I don't know. I met another one of you and he - well, I think a door or a path opened up for him. He said he heard voices calling him back."

Stark snorted. "Won't be none of that for me. Nobody is achin' for old Stark to come home. I'll just have to chance it, I suppose. 'S the same way I ended up in Timely the first time around." Together, they approached the edge of the fog, mist curling out to tug on their arms and legs. Tony turned to him and for a moment, simply stared at him. A small, painfully sweet smile curved at one corner of his mouth. "Dream or no, I'm glad I got to see you, Rogers. One last time." 

No, no, Steve wasn't let him leave on that. "Hey, Tony," he said, catching the other man's arm just as he began to turn. "Listen to me. If you do one thing - anything - in my name, you do this: you live. Do you hear me? You live, Tony. You have a great life."

Stark was wide-eyed and pale and opening his mouth to respond when Steve added "Promise me."

The man's face crumpled. "Oh, Sheriff, you do know how to hit a man where it hurts. I guess I owe you one, though. I promise - to do my best. I might could do better, but then you'll have to bargain and I warn you I used to be a hell of a salesman."

"No, that's good enough for me," Steve replied. Reluctantly, he let go of Tony's arm and the man took a few stumbling steps back to the Time Fog, his eyes never leaving Steve. He stopped just on the edge, seemingly unable to go further and let Steve disappear. Goodbyes, Steve knew, were always the hardest. "My Tony's got a suit of armor, too, you know."

"Yeah?"

"He calls himself Iron Man."

For the first time, something that wasn't drenched in abject misery flashed across Stark's face. "Hey, that's got a bit of a dance to it, don't it?" His eyes, the same ones Steve saw everyday in a different face, held Steve for one last moment before Tony Stark stepped backwards into the Fog, swallowed up in an instant, a smile beginning to stretch across his face.

Steve waited for the fog to settle, then adjusted his shield on his back and began the walk to Stark Tower.

* * *

The Tower was dark, a rare event that meant Tony was so deep into his inventing he didn't even want outsiders accessing the elevator to get to the supercomputer on Deck 1 or the hot tub on Deck 2 for fear of the noise disrupting his work. Steve had been into Tony's workshop and not once had he ever not been playing his music at an obscenely loud volume, so he wasn't even sure how the soundless elevator could bother him, but regardless he, and everyone else, respected Tony's privacy.

Today was the only day he was ever tempted not to. Steve sighed heavily, not wanting to put this off for one more second. The conversation with the other Stark weighed heavily on him. The fight, which seemed so far away now and so oppressively close at the same time, weighed even heavier.

But he was unwilling to impose upon him either, so Steve turned away. Tomorrow, they would talk.

Just as he feet turned back to the quad, the door behind him slid open with a hiss, and James Rhodes spilled out onto the night. He was wearing his rudimentary skeleton armor he wore around campus sometimes on his off days, his giant shoulder gun freshly gleaming on its perch. Upgrades no doubt, and Tony was likely inside rehauling the War Machine.

Rhodes' face pulled an odd sort of grin-grimace when he saw Steve, and he straightened up into a salute. "Captain."

"Staff Sergeant." Steve returned the gesture somewhat stiffly, never quite ready for it. The days when he was Private Rogers, potato-peeler extraordinaire and all-around fat-head, still didn't seem all that far away.

Rhodes eased. "You here to see Tony?" 

"I was."

"Yeah, he's, uh..." Rhodes looked over his shoulder. "Well, busy. And kinda steamed at you. I got an earful. Give him some time to cool off, Cap."

"That was the plan." Steve hesitated, then barged on. "So you heard, then. And you're not mad?"

Rhodes, to his surprise, grinned wide. "Cap, everyone knows you and Tony. Ain't no bigger pair of idiots on the campus then when you two try to talk to each other. Tony gave me his version - I guess you could say I'm mad enough that I don't care to hear yours, but I know how you two are. You'll get it all sorted in a day or two and be back to buddies in time for next week's blow-up."

"Oh." Steve's face fell, shoulder slumping. Were he and Tony really that bad? He knew they had their disagreements, but he thought they'd been getting better.

Rhodes' smile dropped, and he took a step forward. "Aw, don't look like that, Rogers. Some people just don't see eye to eye. Doesn't make any less of what they are to each other."

"I don't want to fight. I want to understand," Steve protested. Rhodes cocked his head a little to the side at that, staring Steve down, those sharp airman's eyes calculating.

"There's no big secret to Tony Stark, Captain," he said after a moment. "His heart's always in the right place. His brain's a few steps ahead, though. His mouth? Probably a few steps behind. Gets him into all sorts of trouble." They shared a smile at that, before Rhodes grew serious again. "Like I said, I heard from Tony what happened - but I got to hear a lot more than you did. Hindsight and all. You know those first few days the Chitauri attacked? One of their guns ate right through the first layer of the Iron Man armor. He told you about that, right?"

"He mentioned it, yes."

"What he didn't get to tell you is that Tony got in between that gun and Janet," Rhodes said. "Janet doesn't _wear_ armor. She could've been seriously hurt by a blast like that. What she does wear is a military-grade polymer bodysuit - that _Tony_ designed. Natasha wears something similar. He protected her in the end but to Tony, all that matters is what could have happened to her while she was wearing what _he_ built for her."

"But that's not his fault," Steve protested. "Tony couldn't have possibly predicted-"

"Tony couldn't possibly have escaped a cave in Afghanistan at sixteen with a hole in his chest, but he did," Rhodes interrupted with a wave of his hand that seemed caustic if one didn't see the sad look on his face. "He's always doing the impossible. It's...not always a good thing. We're all superheroes, but I don't think anyone can understand the kind of pressure he's under. Mostly from himself, but you know he told me when he first got here Fury basically told him all he was good for was what he could invent? Can you imagine how he feels when something he makes fails?"

Fury, Steve decided, needed a stern talking to. But as he thought more over Rhodes' words, his heart sank as his earlier accusation was proven true. "He got scared. Overcompensated."

"Bingo," Rhodes agreed, then rolled his eyes. "Plus a little bit of an inventing high from the alien tech and a dash of nursing his bruised ego: Rocket absolutely schooled his ass at tech. So he got a little crazy. You know how he is. All that being said, Cap? Honestly, I'm glad you said what you did."

"You are?" Steve asked, surprised.

"Yeah. Well, sort of. If some of what he said is true and I catch you saying it to him again we'll be having much unkinder words. But this lone wolf stuff he pulls, it drives me crazy. It's not necessary. He's had me and Janet and Pep for years now and we'll always be there for him. Now, he has you and the rest of the Avengers, too. He needs to see that. And he, man, he idolized you as a kid, but he _respects_ you now as his leader, so maybe he'll actually listen when it comes outta your mouth. You got a knack for putting his feet back down to the ground, man. He needs someone like that; I got into the habit of indulging him back in college."

"Did he tell you about - about upgrading himself?" Steve asked, anxious. "He wasn't - he wasn't serious. I told him he couldn't be serious."

"I don't know," Rhodes said thoughtfully, and not nearly as distressed as Steve thought he should be. "Whatever it is, real or not, it's far off in the future and Tony will test it thoroughly - putting one piece of experimental tech into his body was enough for him, I think."

"It doesn't frighten you?"

"Why does it frighten you?" Rhodes shot back.

"Because he could-" Steve thought of that angry Tony he'd met, with those cold eyes. The sad Stark that had just cried on his shoulder, the one who had watched ( _let_ , his mind whispered) him die. Surely they had started out as bright and cheerful and maddening as his own Tony. Something, something horrible, had made them- "Change."

Rhodes' face went soft, and oddly knowing. "That's what he'll have us for, Cap. Right?"

Steve nodded. He supposed that was all he could do, now. Be there. Isn't that what Tony had come knocking at his door for, so many months ago? To be there, in the present, with him. "Right."

"Good man," Rhodes said, coming forward to clap Steve on the shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up, Captain. Leave that to the aliens." With that, he moved past Steve and loosed his gun, ready for a fight as he headed down the walk to the dorms.

Steve stared up at the Tower for a moment longer, and then followed.

* * *

The illusive tomorrow never came though. Tony ran himself ragged preparing for Ronan's final push, as Steve did the same repelling the warlord's ground forces. They barely had time to speak, and when they did it was commands and relays. Finally, the aliens were sent packing, and Tony disappeared making repairs on the Legion, which seemed to grow by the day, while Steve aided in reconstruction on the damaged building on campus.

It was then, as the Academy was still smoking, that the HYDRA helicarrier appeared on the horizon, a man at its' helm that Steve thought he had defeated long ago, and once and for all: The Red Skull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the first: I don't actually know how Zemo is in the game, but of the few conversations I know of him having, in at least two of them all he does is say "Civil War" and then disappears. Please note this is BEFORE the Civil War event occurs. It is hilarious.  
> Note the second: In the game, if I remember correctly, it kinda goes back and forth on if they're 'killing' the Chitauri. They're probably just supposed to be knocking them out. Peter Quill even befriends one, but oh well. The game gets kinda macabre at some points and I wanted to play into that.


End file.
